


Overwater

by FamousWolf



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 61,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7408867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FamousWolf/pseuds/FamousWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected trip to paradise leaves Link with only one person to take along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Sands

“I never take those things seriously, but I got a discount on my jacket for entering.”

Christy wrinkled her nose, loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.  “How does that make sense?”

“Advertising.  We won a trip, and now we’ll tell all our friends about…” Link turned back toward the kitchen table to read the brightly colored brochure he’d brought home that afternoon, “White Sands Travel Agency.  And no doubt how they're in bed with Nordstrom.”

"White Sands? Kind of generic.  I'll never remember that name.  How will I ever tell all my closest friends about the amazing vacation that _my husband enjoyed without me?_ " She punctuated the question with a subtle slam of the dishwasher door.

"What?!" he balked, having settled on this decision at her behest only minutes before.  "You _just_ told me—"

"I'm kidding," she groaned with playful irritation.  Shaking her head, she crossed the kitchen and slid her arms under his own, leaning heavily into him to ask, "How do _you_ not know a joke when you hear one?"

"I can't help it.  I feel bad.  You'll be on your own with the kids for a week, away from home."

"And you'll be in another hemisphere.  Oh well.  We've had this trip planned for months.  They want to see their grandparents.  So do I.  But if you think I'm not pawning them off on your mother for at least one night out, you're sorely mistaken."

"I hope you do.  You deserve it," he said, kissing her forehead.  She leaned into the touch and sighed.

"So do you.  You've been working like a madman.  This will be more relaxing than any week back home.  You may actually come back feeling rested.  But I still think you shouldn't tell them where you're going.  They'll eat you alive for not taking them."

"Which raises the next question..."

"Oh, does it?" she asked, pulling back.  Her eyebrow arched and a knowing smile pulled at her lips.  "Yes, I wonder who you'll ask.  Big mystery."

"He did say they were staying home that week.  They're planning a trip later in the year."

"You know you don't have to justify this to me.  It would be weirder for you _not_ to ask him."  As she spoke, she headed for the living room, shutting the lights off and leaving him in the darkened kitchen with a final thought. "Good luck booking another bungalow with such short notice, though."

 

 

After filming the next day, Link planted himself in his shared office to manage his inbox.  Addressing it daily kept him from falling into the necessary emailing marathons that Rhett was famous for.  Half of the team could ignore his email for a week, whereas the other felt anxious once his inbox hit double digits. 

"The daily grind, huh?" Rhett asked as he strolled into the space, noticing Link's intense focus on the screen in front of him.

"Keeps the stress at bay."

"Definitely.  You look super relaxed right now," Rhett replied, clearly mocking the intensity with which Link tackled even the mundane elements of their work.  "I'm jealous."  He dropped onto the couch and visibly debated between sitting and lying down.  The desire to recline won out, and he stretched as much as he could, covering his eyes with a bent arm.  "Where's our time machine?  I need that break to be here."

Link smirked, taking the cue to close his laptop.  "I need a beach.  A little hut over the water, all the tropical drinks I could ever want."

"With the paper umbrellas.  Yes.  That sounds awesome," Rhett responded, picking up the fantasy and running with it.  "An afternoon of surfing.  Or not.  Just napping on the sand, listening to the tide would be nice.  A few nice meals that we don't have to prepare ourselves.  A massage.  Oooh, a massage," he groaned, longing for this dream.

"Sounds nice."

"Right?  I can fake it.  I'll drive out to the beach on the break.  Take a cooler.  Schedule a massage one day.  I think I still have a gift card somewhere."

With that, Rhett felt something light land on his stomach, tossed from the desk.  He uncovered his eyes and picked up the waxy pamphlet, examining the vivid images and descriptions of an upscale resort.

"Want to go?" Link asked nonchalantly.

He furrowed his brow then rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, right."  He set the paper on the coffee table and rested his head back.  "I can definitely afford to take off to Tahiti.  Let's take my private jet."

A heavier envelope flew over to the couch, landing on his legs.  Upon, peeking into it, he pushed himself up and looked hard at Link, who was grinning.

"I didn't know you'd be offering your jet.  We'd have to settle for business class."

"What is this, Link?" Rhett asked, stealing another glance at the pair of airline tickets in the envelope.

"It's a trip to Tahiti.  All-inclusive, overwater bungalows in which one can nap away an entire afternoon listening to the tide, no doubt in preparation for an evening spent in the midst of the region's riveting nightlife."

Rhett stared speechlessly at him, processing the offer.  Link let a beat pass before leaning back in his chair and repeating his question.

"Want to go?"

 

That night, the conversation between the McLaughlins was a bit easier than in the Neal household, as no wife was left traveling alone across the country with her children.  Rather, she was granted the chance to send them to a day camp without the guilt of separating them from their father during one of his few breaks.  For the rest of the evening, Rhett caught himself smiling at his own fortune: a remarkably loving and supportive wife, and a best friend and business partner with some impressive luck of his own. 

Secretly, Link was not surprised when Rhett agreed to go.  He guessed that Jessie would allow the weeklong separation in exchange for an upgraded trip of her own in December.  When he shared his suspicion, Rhett simply laughed, confirming it.

"Let's agree on one thing," Rhett proposed on the following afternoon.  Link looked up from his laptop warily.  "Let's not plan anything.  Let's just go and see what strikes us. Every day is scheduled to the minute around here," he said, nodding toward a whiteboard on the wall filled with scribbled times and dates, never-ending appointments demanding to be held.  "If ever there was a place to go with the flow, this is it."

"He said from his vast Tahitian experiences."

"You don't know where I've been."

Link raised his hands in mock defense.  "You're right.  I'm fine with that.  No plans."

"That's how you avoid being a tourist.  No strict scheduling, just seeing where the day takes you."

"Right.  All the worldly travelers win their trips in retail drawings."

Rhett shrugged, turning to his own computer.  "Maybe.  You don't know," he repeated.

 

 

The weeks passed quickly until the Friday afternoon that signaled the end of the usual workflow for a while at the studio.  The entire staff had worked overtime, writing, filming, and editing at a breakneck speed in order to close down production for a week without disrupting the release schedule of their channels.  They went out on a high note, saving the filming of a sponsored bit for last.  It required soaking themselves to prove the water resistance of a laminate flooring product, and resulted in the type of laughter that left the whole team clutching their sides in pain.  It was the high that they lived for, embracing the humor of pretending to take themselves seriously. 

The pair were running towels over their heads for the last time when crew members started packing up.  Rhett climbed the stairs overlooking the workspace and addressed his employees.

"Hey, I just wanted to thank everyone for busting your butts this week.  It's your hard work that allows us all to take a breather next week, so be sure to do just that: take a break.  We're running at minimum capacity, so take it easy.  We definitely will.  We won't be accessible, so unless it's an emergency..."

"Everyone leave everyone else alone," Link chimed in from the bottom of the stairs.  "But mainly me.  Leave me alone."

The crew laughed and exchanged farewells before disappearing into the summer evening waiting outside the studio.  The last to leave, Stevie raised her hand in a quick wave.

"Enjoy the wonders of the east coast," she called to Link, who was working diligently through his emails on his phone.  From his perch on the top step, Rhett cocked his head. "And enjoy...whatever you're going to do," she told Rhett, slipping through the door before they could reply. 

"Interesting."

Link glanced up for a split second, before returning his focus to his phone.  "What?"

"Everyone thinks you're still going home.  For two weeks, you didn't say anything about the trip."

Without looking back up, Link turned and started toward the office, replying coolly, "Neither did you."

Rhett scratched his beard, wondering not only how they'd both managed to keep it to themselves, but why.

 

 

Twenty four hours later, they were seated beside each other, thirty thousand feet over the Pacific.  Having spent as much time as possible with their families before leaving, each was tired, but a current of excitement had kept them awake and chatty in the airport, discussing all the plans they hadn't made and the activities they'd hoped to stumble upon.  Twice, Link had started to steer the conversation to work, but Rhett refused to engage, each time claiming he wasn't on the clock and couldn't be of use.  By the time they'd found their seats on the plane, Link had given up trying to sneak work into his day.  But this defeat left him mentally to his own devices.  With no task to distract him, he'd become acutely aware of his experience on this flight.

"I just don't understand why they don't come by more often, is all I'm saying."

"You have a button over your head for this exact purpose," Rhett noted, raising his arm to push the "Call Attendant" light.  Link's hand flashed up and slapped it away.

"No, I'm fine.  I'm just making a point. Aren't they bored?  What else are they doing?"

"I don't know.  Attending."  Rhett casually offered his own bottle of water, which Link wordlessly took, drinking deeply.  He sighed, the pressure in his ears finally relieved, and tried to hand the bottle back.  Rhett shook his head, and Link slid it into the seatback in front of himself.

In the quiet that followed, Rhett smiled to himself, considering their exchange from a third party's point of view.  The ease with which he gave of himself to make Link happy amused him somehow.  The comfort of their friendship left him feeling at home no matter where they went, but he knew how easily such comfort could be confused for a different type of relationship.  No two platonic men spent a week sharing a suite alone in Tahiti.  The thought made him laugh.  He turned to Link to share his new joke and stopped short.  He'd known it was coming: Link's head had fallen toward the window, mouth slightly agape in a deepening sleep.  He was a narcoleptic traveler, and Rhett envied him for it. 

 

Seven hours later, Rhett had not slept at all.  This was their arrangement.  Link teleported, falling asleep in one place and waking in another, while Rhett trudged with dedication, experiencing every minute of movement, whether he wanted to or not.  It led to companionable energies when they landed, one of them well-rested, and the other giddy with exhaustion.

The island welcomed them with a bath of red and gold, the sun setting from a cloudless sky.  In the east, stars poked through the atmosphere, too eager for night to wait for the sun to fall completely.  The last rays of the day lit their taxi from behind as they drove through back streets toward their resort.  Along the way, Link pointed out small collections of huts on various beaches, making and losing a dozen bets that they were approaching their own.  They passed an open market that had closed for the evening, capped on either end with small cafes.  Rhett made mental notes of the most appealing shops and restaurants.  His list had grown too long to remember by the time they pulled into a tiki-lit village of beach-side huts.

A bellhop dressed in white took their bags and directed them toward the office.  Only minutes later, he led them through the little village toward their temporary home.  They passed a crystalline blue pool, in which a couple had pressed themselves against a wall and into each other's arms.  Link looked away quickly, making Rhett laugh quietly to himself.  His grin only broadened when the bellhop led them to a wooden plank gangway leading out into the clear ocean water and to a private bungalow that floated above it on stilts.

It drew them in with warm lamps illuminating a combined living room and bedroom with an entirely open wall leading out to an open deck.  On it sat a small table with two chairs, a white couch, and two loungers facing the water.  In the front corner, the floor dipped into a pool of water, equipped with submerged benches and massaging jets.  At the far end, a small staircase led from the balcony directly into the water below.  Torches flickered along the railing of the deck, promising an intimate firelight once the sun was finally gone.

Link pressed a bill into the bellhop's hand and, once the door had closed behind him, exhaled heavily.

"Good lord."

Rhett laughed. "I'd say.  This place is amazing."  He lifted his suitcase onto the long couch embedded in the side wall of the room.  "Here's what we should do.  You should unpack, because you'll do that anyway."  Link nodded, conceding the point.  "But you should also order some room service, because I've been folded in half all day and I'm gettin' in that hot tub.  And probably staying there all night."

"You'll have to.  There's only one bed."

"I see that," Rhett replied, nodding.  He shrugged, turning back toward his bag.  "I'll sleep here.  Or out there, even.  It's your trip, Neal.  I'm just along for the ride."

Link felt his mouth turn down in appreciation, but he managed to catch himself before uttering, "Aw."


	2. Stunts

Link woke to the smell of coffee and a room awash with the gold light of sunrise.  He lay in bed for longer than he usually allowed himself, the comforter pulled around him in a cocoon of down.  It, along with the silky sheets, lulled him into a pattern of staring at the free pillow beside him until he dozed off, woke again, and continued staring, making note of exactly how comfortable he was.  At the third waking, he realized that the room was silent, save for the soft buzz of the fan overhead.  He figured that Rhett must have started the coffee and fallen back to sleep.  This led to his surprise when he finally turned over and found the couch empty, Rhett's blanket folded neatly into a square at one end, suitcase flayed open across the center.  Link sat up, looking out at the deck, finding it equally abandoned. 

His heart sank for the briefest of moments.  He had not anticipated that Rhett would be interested in pursuing his interests alone on this trip.  It made sense, he figured, but waking up alone still washed away much of the comfort in which he'd reveled.

It was as Link finally poured himself a cup of coffee that the door swung open.  The sideboard shared a wall with the door, dropping Rhett in Link's space as soon as he entered.  They each flinched in surprise, then laughed.

"Morning!" Rhett chirped, dropping a baker's box on the table next to the coffee pot.  Link lifted its top, revealing a dozen wildly iced doughnuts.

"Those will change your life," Rhett promised, crossing to his suitcase.  "I saw the bakery on the way in last night."

"Where?"

"Couple blocks..." he gestured vaguely toward the door, "that way."

"You got up early."

"Ha.  We don't all sleep like kings around here."

Link winced with a pang of guilt. He covered well.  "Sorry 'bout it."

"I got us a couple surfboards, should you be interested," Rhett announced, pulling a pair of striped swim trunks from his suitcase. 

"Right on.  I'm there.  Let me eat and we'll head out."  Turning back toward the room, Link found Rhett changing into his trunks, facing the couch his only attempt at modesty.  The impulse to chide him arose, but it stemmed from years of working around third parties.  It struck Link in this moment that, when it was just the two of them, he didn't really care.

 

They spent the morning and much of the afternoon lazing around their resort's private beach.  Naturally, they turned their surfing into a competition, betting drinks on who could catch and keep the biggest wave.  By the time they crawled onto their towels to rest, Link owed Rhett two daiquiris, a margarita, and a sidecar. 

"I couldn't win," Link panted.  "You practice way more than I do."

"So you see the benefits of making time for fun in your life," Rhett fired back, referring to a perpetual misconception that Link never stepped away from his work.

"Right.  So I can make my friends buy me drinks at an _all inclusive_."

Rhett slapped the sand at his side.  "Damn.  I forgot about that.  Some bet.  You let me think I was really getting away with something!"

"Don't I always?"

"Well, you have to carry them back. We'll hit that little place by the spa."

"I have to carry four glasses."

"Three.  Possible, but uncomfortable."

Half an hour later, the absurd bet was fulfilled.  Rhett sauntered casually down the walkway through the resort, towel over his bare shoulder, bright red daiquiri in one hand, while Link shuffled after him, balancing a cocktail glass between the frozen drinks in each of his hands.  As they passed the pool, they caught the attention of two young men sunning themselves. 

"How's it going, gentlemen?" one of them called out with a suggestive wink.  Link looked up quickly, wincing as an icy drink dripped down his fingers.  Rhett said nothing, but winked back emphatically, standing even taller as he strolled.  The men laughed.

"The hell was that?" Link asked in a harsh whisper once they'd reached their gangway.

Rhett laughed.  "Oh, are we pretending this arrangement doesn't beg a certain question?"

"Are we pretending the certain answer is yes?"

Grinning at Link's discomfort, Rhett pulled the towel off his shoulder with his right hand, then opened the door and held it with his left.  Link shook his head. 

"Just go in.  Hold it from the inside," Link tried to protest, hands freezing.  Rhett shook his head, the game already in play.  Link sighed, then passed under Rhett's arm, crying out at the snap of the towel on his backside. 

Once back on their own deck, Rhett pushed the sidecar over the short table toward Link as they reclined on the loungers.

"You can have that.  I don't even like those."

Link just stared at him, the silence between them speaking volumes, and drawing out another hearty laugh from Rhett.

 

An hour passed on the deck, and with it, the sun fell beyond the protection of their roof's overhang. 

"I'm starting to crisp," Link announced, pushing himself out of his lounger.  Rhett followed suit, though a bit more slowly, having downed three surprisingly strong frozen drinks in the last sixty minutes.

"Same.  How 'bout a nap, then dinner?  There's a two-level tiki hut around here that's supposed to have killer kabobs.  Saw it in the brochure," he said, flipping the overhead fan on as he stepped into the bungalow.  Link had already stretched out atop the bed's cool comforter. 

"Sounds good," he yawned, placing his glasses on the nightstand.  Rhett dropped to the floor and lay prone, lengthening his back, cheek against the cool wood floor.  "On the ground, huh?"

"Need to stretch out."

Link rolled to face the outside of the bed, hugging the edge before he made his offer: "You can nap up here.  Stay out of the blankets and on your side."

Rhett wasted no time in climbing back up and dropping onto the bed.  He let out a dramatic groan of relaxation as he did so, making his appreciation known. 

Link immediately felt simultaneously more tense and at ease.  Rhett's proximity coaxed his eyelids closed, but an inexplicable shot of adrenaline held his own nap at bay.  It took following the pattern of Rhett's breathing to finally soothe him to sleep.

 

It took them twenty minutes of wandering around the vast resort complex to find the restaurant Rhett had mentioned, but they'd agreed the journey was worthwhile when finally they were seated at a wicker table on a balcony that overlooked a tropical garden, complete with intricate fountains and small, brightly colored birds flitting about the plants and structures. Further in the distance, waves rolled up onto the quiet beach.

They ate in contented silence, each enjoying their second winds from the day's exercise.  Having each finished their drinks with their final bites, they'd started to grow tired of waiting for a server.

"I think they forgot about us," Rhett said, craning his neck to look back into the dark restaurant.

"Do we look like bad tippers?" Link asked, lazily gazing out at the ocean.

"The price of a great table: less than great service.  I'm going to the bar.  Want something different?"

Link shook his head.  "Same thing's fine."

With that, Rhett pushed away from the table and strode back inside, approaching the bar with the familiarity of a local.  Link watched him start to chat up the bartender; it seemed he couldn't help himself: Rhett was a naturally social being.  It was only as he saw the taller man start to lean against a barstool that Link understood he'd be waiting a while.  He grinned and shook his head, turning to face the water again. 

Further down the beach, a mixed group of intricately dressed performers and tourists had begun to gather around a large fire.  Tribal music occasionally drifted back to the restaurant from their direction, natives warming up for the night's event.  As Link watched their preparations, their waitress finally reappeared, setting a tall, orange cocktail in front of him.

"Oh, I didn't order this," he said before she could step away.

"From a gentleman in the restaurant," she replied, turning quickly and disappearing as quickly as she'd arrived.

At first, Link rolled his eyes, recognizing the smell of cognac and the signature orange curl of a sidecar.  He looked to Rhett, who was still deep in conversation with the bartender, and waited for the glance that would give the joke away.  Instead, he saw in the periphery a darkly tanned man raise his own glass.  When Link's eyes landed on him, the man nodded once and took a long pull from his own drink, eyes sliding unsubtly toward Rhett, then refocusing on Link.  His eyebrow arched mischievously before looking away, and somehow, it was that look that made Link recognize him:  He'd sat quietly by as his companion had called out to them from the poolside.

Link turned quickly toward the beach, face warm beyond the sun's effect.  He shook his head, mostly at Rhett, trying to put together the lecture he'd give his friend if and when he ever returned to the table.  Time moved too quickly for him to put anything good together, so when Rhett did return, he had nothing sharp to say.

"You said you wanted a beer," Rhett said, setting a bottle next to the glass.  Link nodded for a beat too long before responding.

"I did," he hissed, talking far quieter than needed for discretion.  "Someone ordered this for me."

Rhett's eyes widened, then narrowed on the drink in discussion.  He picked it up and smelled it, then burst out laughing.  "That's hilarious.  She has questionable, but hilarious taste. What are the odds?"

  "Odds are pretty good, considering _he_ saw me carrying one this afternoon."

"Oh, no..." Rhett said, smile fading.  He couldn't hold it long, and lost his bluff to another bout of laughter.  "That's great."

"I'm glad you think so."

"What kind of gesture is that, though?  I mean, the drinks are free," Rhett said, reminding himself of his deflated bet.

Link sighed.  "The kind that says, 'I _saw_ you.'"

Rhett just laughed again, pushing the glass further toward Link.  "Well, don't be rude."

Link rolled his eyes again.

They sat in silence for a while, each drinking lazily, watching people walk down the beach toward the fire until at last they decided to check out the gathering for themselves.  Link kept his gaze firmly locked on the staircase at the far end of the restaurant, avoiding the eyes he could feel watching him.

"Bold move, really," Rhett said, eyes easily finding the man staring Link down. 

"What's that?" Link asked.

"I mean, I'm _right here_ ," he whined, mockingly exasperated at the man's audacity.  Seeing Link try to ignore his way out of the joke made Rhett try even harder, grabbing hold of Link's hand as they walked.  Naturally, Link jerked his hand away, face contorted in a mix of confusion and irritation.

"Knock it off," he warned.  Rhett couldn't hear him over his own laughter.

 

"What is this?" Rhett asked as he followed Link in approaching the small crowd gathering on the beach.

"I'm not sure.  Saw it coming together during dinner, thought we'd see what's happening," Link replied, slowing his pace as it became clear what lay at the center of the circle the crowd had formed.

Rhett laughed with excitement.  "Firewalkers!  That's awesome."

They found a place on one of the many large logs circling the coals at the center of the ring just as small drums filled the air with a tribal beat.  Performers dressed in brightly colored sarongs streamed into the center of the circle and the crowd cheered. 

Rhett watched intently, entranced by the dancers as they spun flaming batons with ease, setting the dark beach aglow.  They moved easily around the bed of coals, though their proximity made him wince more than once. 

Link leaned back, out of Rhett's peripheral vision, and looked at his friend.  The firelight bounced across his cheeks, which were dewy with the heat.  Spinning flames reflected in his eyes as he stared at the performers, unabashedly impressed and enjoying himself.  His head had tilted back slightly, as it always did when his interest was piqued, and Link fought the urge to touch him and break the spell. 

As he was looking at Rhett, he did not see a dancer approach him.  She reached out and grabbed his wrist quickly, pulling him up and into the circle.  Rhett laughed and clapped at his forced participation, leaning forward to watch as two dancers twirled their fire fans around Link's head.  He stood frozen, wisps of fire darting in and out of his vision.  Through the flames, he saw Rhett grinning at him, and suddenly felt the drums in his chest.  When he would normally have looked away, he did not, and instead met Rhett's gaze head on, holding onto it through the flames dancing between them.  Rhett tilted his head further back, his face colored with amused confidence as he stared.  After what felt like hours, a small dancer placed a white lei around Link's neck, signaling him to sit back down.  He nodded to her and returned to his place on the log, touching the flowers lightly.  Rhett reached out to touch them too. 

"Nice!  Compliments your outfit," he teased. 

"Don't be jealous," Link fired back, moving past the intensity of the moment and focusing again on the ceremony in front of them. 

An older man came into the center of the space and the music died down.  The crowd grew quiet quickly, listening as he quietly spoke Tahitian, repeating the words until the performers now lining the circle chanted them with him.  The drums built a steady rhythm again, filling the air with a new excitement and anticipation as the man stepped up to the far end of the coals.  The incantation grew louder, and he took a deep breath, then walked carefully down the length of the bed.  The crowd cheered as he stepped back onto the sand, and Link realized he'd been holding his breath. 

Other performers then began daintily walking across the coals, followed by volunteers from the onlookers.  The crowd dissipated noticeably once the performers had turned their attention outward, but Rhett and Link stayed seated, watching giggling tourists attempt the walk.  Three men had taken four or five steps before leaping off the bed and dancing around with nervousness and pain.

"They're psyching themselves out," Rhett said, shaking his head.  Link turned and looked at him expectantly.

"Oh, that's the secret?  'Don't psyche yourself out.'"

Rhett shrugged. "I mean, how bad could it be?  They do it all the time," he said, nodding to the performers.  As he spoke, a few sparks flared up from the bottom of the coal bed.  Link laughed. 

"Right.  Go for it, then.  How bad could it be?"

Rhett stared a bit longer at the coals, then pushed himself up.  Link's eyes widened; he'd not expected Rhett to oblige.  He knew his place, though, and followed Rhett to the center of the ring, standing at the close end of the bed while Rhett made his way to the far one.  The taller man looked down and took a deep breath.  Link glanced out at the crowd and saw several faces watching Rhett.  His own nerves kicked in, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.  He knew Rhett wouldn't lose sleep over having to jump off the coals, but he truly wanted to see him succeed.

"You got this, man," he called.  Rhett nodded once, then breathed deeply.  He slipped off his sandals and tossed them to Link, then unceremoniously stepped onto the coals.  He stepped quickly, feet pulling up as far from the ground as possible after each step. Though he did not make the same show of it that the Tahitian man had, he crossed the entire bed, his serious demeanor dissolving into laughter as he stepped off at the end.  Several spectators cheered, as did Link, high fiving Rhett before being pulled into a celebratory hug.  He was let go in a daze, the intensity of the hug surprising him for a moment as Rhett panted.

"I feel unstoppable!  You have to do it!" he said, all but shouting at Link in excitement.

"No thank you.  I like the skin on my feet.  I don't have the mental fortitude to not 'psyche myself out.'  That was crazy, man!" he laughed.

"It's nothing!  You could totally do it, I swear."

Link pulled him away from the coals, as a few other visitors attempted the walk.  "I believe you.  I also believe that your, what, five drinks today might have helped."

"Two.  I napped before dinner.  The afternoon's don't count."

They laughed again and started walking away from the ceremony, back toward their bungalow.  Rhett's trajectory took a turn quickly, though, and he walked in the edge of the tide.

"Feelin' the burn?" Link asked, watching Rhett's bare feet kick through the water.  It was then that he realized he was still carrying Rhett's shoes, and he handed them over.

"Not at all," Rhett bluffed.  "Just enjoying the water.  You should, too."

Link pulled a face.  "We live on the Pacific.  It's the same water."

"Not here, man.  Look around," he started, gesturing to a group of palm trees in the center of the resort.  "The trees are greener, the sand is softer.  Nothing is quite the same. It's not California.  It's paradise. And you should get in on it."

Link smiled and shook his head at the romanticism.  He found it a bit ridiculous, but slipped his sandals off anyway, and walked a little closer to Rhett. 

"Let's get a dessert to bring back," Rhett suggested, nodding at a grass-covered stand further down the beach.

 

Half an hour later, they were again seated in their deck's hot tub, Rhett pouring champaign into two glass tumblers from the bathroom while Link opened the box of sliced fruit they'd picked up on the way back. 

"I'm up for ending every night like this," Rhett announced, sighing heavily as he sank into the gently rolling water, only his head and hands left above the surface.

"Two nights in a row.  We're on our way," Link replied, setting out two dipping cups of white and dark chocolate on the deck before following suit and dropping slowly into the water and taking his glass.  Rhett raised his own.

"To a great day one."

"To day one," Link toasted. 

They sat quietly for a while, enjoying the sea breeze on their faces while jets massaged muscles that threatened soreness after a day of surfing.  Eventually, Rhett reached for a strawberry, dipping it in white chocolate before biting into it.  Link followed suit, covering the edge of a pineapple cube in dark chocolate and eating it in a single bite.  Rhett's face broke out in a grin.

"Would you tell me if I had something on my face?" Link asked, starting the joke.

"Of course."

Link nodded, then took another bite, allowing the thick chocolate to drip down the opposite corner of his mouth, matching the mess he knew he'd already started. Rhett snorted a laugh.

"Like a vampire," he said, pantomiming the streams coming from each corner of Link's mouth.

"I don't know what you mean.  Try this," Link said quickly, forcefully offering a covered pineapple to Rhett.  To avoid the fruit smashing into his chin, he opened his mouth.  Naturally, Link ran the fruit along the edge of his cheek, stripping the chocolate off and causing it to run down his beard.  Rhett closed his eyes and laughed through his chewing.

"You have a little something..." Link trailed, pointing to his own cheek.

"How embarrassing," Rhett fired back, setting his glass down to wipe his face, intentionally missing the smear of chocolate.  Link tried to direct him to the spot, and Rhett moved around it in a routine they'd perfected years ago, one that still amused them.  Finally, Link's glass changed hands, and he used his dry thumb to clean Rhett's face, shaking his head like a disapproving mother.  He'd expected a similar gesture from Rhett, done perhaps a bit more aggressively.  What he did not expect was for Rhett's mouth to open, pulling in his thumb and sucking it clean.

"Oh," Link uttered, immediately feeling a flutter in his stomach.  Rhett's head pulled back, leaving his hand in the air between them for a moment before Link snapped to and brought it quickly back to his chest.  Rhett laughed to himself, amused with his own quick thinking, and Link followed suit, hoping the other man couldn't see through his facade.  He wiped his own face off quickly, ending the game with a rattled smile. 

They spent the rest of their time in the water in silence, one seemingly more comfortable than the other, until Rhett finally yawned and nodded his head at some unspoken thought.  He pushed himself up slowly, turning his back to Link as he climbed out of the water.  Link took the opportunity to watch him, looking for some clarity and becoming instantly distracted by the long expanse of Rhett's back as it glistened in the light of the torches.  He'd seen it a thousand times, but in this moment, his gaze felt intrusive.  It wandered from the edges of his shoulder blades to the dip of his spine just above the waistband of his trunks.  As Rhett turned to clean up their dessert, Link turned his head, closing his eyes, internally shaking off the previous hour.

"I'm gonna rinse this chlorine off and go to bed," Rhett announced, turning toward the interior.

Link nodded and set about finishing his drink.  A minute later, he heard the faint sounds of the shower kicking on at the front of the bungalow.  Rhett had left the door open, no doubt trying to keep the large bathroom steam-free.  But the smallest corner of Link's mind was not convinced.  It dared him to wonder if Rhett had hoped to be walked in on. It questioned if the motive behind the chocolate stunt went beyond getting a laugh at Link's surprise. It tried to play with these dangerous and unlikely possibilities, but Link shut it down with a deep sigh, rolling his eyes at himself and tuning in to the sounds of the tide. 

When he finally reentered the bungalow, he found Rhett passed out on the couch, bent knees hanging over the edge of the cushion.  He shook his head at the sight and headed for the shower.


	3. Cheap Thrills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three songs are referenced: Sia's "Cheap Thrills", Disclosure's "Magnets" (feat. Lorde), and Brooke Fraser's "Psychosocial." For a more immersive experience, listen along.

_"I've been waiting for this...it feels like forever."_

_Link shivered, Rhett's breath hot on his ear, pouring down his neck._

_"You act uninterested, but I know what's in your head.  You're dying for it.  I know you, Neal."_

_"What are you..." he tried to ask, voice weak under the weight of the body holding him against an unseen wall.  He resisted for only a second, then surrendered, letting the warmth envelop him, pressing the air out of him.  His body gave it up willingly._

_"I could start without you, but you'd be sorry to miss even a little bit.  So wake up."_

_"I'm right here.  I'm not fighting you," he heard himself say._

_"Just a taste, maybe."_

_Link groaned into the sensation of teeth sinking gently into his neck._

_"Are you awake yet?"_

_"I'm right here," he repeated, leaning into the weight and warmth of the body he could not see.  "I'm ready."_

_The body pulled away, leaving Link cold and whimpering for its return._

"Wake up."

Blue eyes shot open, going blind in the bright sunlight of the morning.  Completely uncovered, Link curled into the fetal position, wrapping an arm around his knees. 

"Wake up, man," Rhett repeated, standing over him, holding the white comforter in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other.  "Were you having a nightmare?"

"No," Link answered.  His face burned with the accidental admission.  "Yes.  I don't know."

"Well, you must have been running.  You were practically panting.  Breakfast is here," Rhett said, dropping the heavy blanket back onto Link in a heap.  He pulled it back over himself, covering his head for a moment to reorient himself in the world.  He quietly took two deep breaths, then uncovered his head to find Rhett sitting down at the table on the deck in front of one of two breakfast plates. 

"Felt like I was talking to a corpse.  Come on, it's getting cold."

"You were talking," Link confirmed, pieces coming together.  "About breakfast."  He slid out of bed, rubbing the confusion from his face as he strode to the dresser.  As he yanked on a white t-shirt, Rhett held up a pamphlet at the table.

"I found an activity for today!"

"What time do you wake up?" Link asked, surprised that for the second day Rhett seemed to have woken, explored the area around the resort, and returned before Link even stirred.

Rhett shrugged, digging into a pile of eggs. "I'm still on home time, I think.  That market is open today.  We passed it on the way in."

"Gonna buy yourself a grass skirt?"

He snorted a laugh. "I've already put in an order."

"I saw an ad for a bar that looked interesting, too.  Could check that out tonight.  You can wear your skirt."

* * *

 

The marketplace undulated, dark and light bodies weaving in and out of one another, moving in no particular hurry from one stand to the next.  In the daylight, the two stories sang with the neon colors of flowers, scarves, clothing, and art. 

Rhett led their trek, stopping more than once to admire displays of fresh fish before remembering they had no place to cook it.  Link followed behind, paying more attention to the people around them than the products being sold, at least until Rhett had directed them away from the food and into the clothing and jewelry stands. 

"This area is known for black pearls.  See?" Rhett said, pointing out a case full of jewelry.  "You should get Christy something for letting you come."

Link laughed.  "No, you should get her something for letting _you_ come."

"True.  I haven't given her a gift in a while."

Link rolled his eyes.  "Dude, come on."

Rhett just laughed.  He looked up, scanning the stands and shops that lined the outside of the marketplace.  "Oh, yes.  Follow me."

Slipping between shoppers, they crossed the floor too quickly for Link to notice exactly where they were going.  When they finally stopped, he looked up at a painted wooden sign, and with an expressionless face, looked to Rhett. 

"Are you serious?" he deadpanned.

"I'm willing to make a three to five day commitment, yes.  Lean in, Neal.  This is your chance to test out that sleeve you wanted!"

Link couldn't help but smile at his excitement as he followed Rhett into the small airbrush tattoo shop. 

 

They walked out twenty minutes later, each laughing at the other's new appearance. 

"Did you see how many stencils she had to use?" Link laughed, taking yet another look at his right arm, the top half of which was now covered in an array of black tiki tribal designs. 

"Yeah, but she blended them surprisingly well.  It looks good!  You should consider just getting those permanently inked."

"Absolutely.  'Can you just follow the pattern from the airbrush stencils? They really express who I am.'"  They laughed as they walked along several more bright shops.  "I think yours is my favorite, though."

"It's a classic," Rhett agreed, stopping to admire the dolphin on his ankle.  He'd asked for it out of solidarity, but knew they'd get laughs out of it for the rest of the trip. 

As they stopped, an old, brightly dressed woman caught their attention, and as they approached her kiosk, she handed Rhett a folded piece of red fabric.

"Go 'head.  Put on."

"This?" he asked, unfolding the fabric, revealing a flowery pattern in black stretching across the expanse of red.

"Pareo.  Like this," she said, wrapping a green one around her own waist, demonstrating a fastening technique.

"It's like a sarong," Link realized.  "Go for it."

Rhett followed her lead, wrapping the fabric around his waist and folding it into place.  He turned around to show it off, and she cheered.

"Like Maohi.  One of us now!  Here," she said, choosing a blue design for Link.  He took it and wrapped it around himself, trying to follow the same pattern Rhett had.  It slipped apart twice, and though Link was laughing, he knew his cheeks were starting to flush.  He expected to be laid into, subjected to jokes about an inability to follow directions.  Instead, Rhett simply took the piece from him, stepped behind him, and wrapped the fabric as he had done on himself.  Link noted that he moved a little slower this time, fingers lingering against his waist as his back warmed against Rhett's chest.  It lasted only seconds, but it made him feel small.  It also made him feel taken care of, and he did not protest.  Once the fabric felt secure, Rhett stepped away and the woman cheered again. 

"I _feel_ like a local.  Don't you?  I don't think you could tell us apart now," Rhett joked, reaching through the fabric now covering his shorts to pull out his wallet.  "This is all we're wearing for the rest of the trip," he said, paying for both. 

Link expected looks as they strolled through the rest of the market, but found that mostly, they were ignored.  Each time they noticed another man wearing a sarong, they pointed him out, adding him to the brotherhood they'd only just joined themselves. 

As morning wore into afternoon, they laughed themselves sore, sitting on the patio of a small cafe to regroup and reenergize.  It was there that Rhett suggested renting mopeds and riding around the island. 

"Tomorrow.  We'll do the full eight hours, see the whole place," Link suggested.

Rhett laughed.  "I really doubt we'll see the whole island, but okay.  Tomorrow, bright and early.  Mopeds."

"Scooters."

"Same difference."

"Is it?"

* * *

 

Eventually, they wandered back to the resort, silently agreeing to spend the rest of their afternoon at the beach.  It was hard to resist: the sand was pure and soft, perfect for hiding toes in, and the ocean was warm enough not to shock the system. 

After cooling off in the water, Link stretched out on his stomach on a towel next to the space Rhett had already claimed for a nap.  Resting his head on his forearms, he turned  to speak, but upon finding the other's eyes closed, he opted for silence.  Hidden behind sunglasses, Link's eyes lingered, repeating the previous night's transgression.  He followed the gentle slope of Rhett's shoulders, then the plane of his chest, spending a little too long taking in the sight of his friend.  His eyes lifted to Rhett's face and stalled out again, reminding himself of the features he'd memorized long ago: the strong brow, the high cheekbones, the lips that tended to curve upward as if keeping secrets of their own. 

Link dozed off soon after lying down, and so did not feel the gaze wandering over his own body.

* * *

 

"It's supposed to be around here," Link said, reading street signs and building numbers as they walked in the dark. 

"We have to be close.  You can hear it."  Rhett was right- a heavy bass line thumped through the streets with them, growing louder as they approached a two-story building with balconies on all sides, filled with people laughing, drinking, and dancing. 

"We don't have to stay," Link offered, recognizing quickly how intense the place could be inside.

"Worth a shot," Rhett countered, opening the door for Link.  A new beat poured out the door, causing their eyes to widen at one another before they stepped into the wildly lit building.

Colored lights painted the main floor in blues, purples, and greens.  Blacklights picked up the white linen pants Rhett had worn and caused the flowers to glow on Link's ironic Hawaiian shirt.  The second floor was made entirely of wide catwalks, making the two levels visible to one another, despite their drastically different appearances.  Upstairs, red and orange lights washed away any discernible features of the people swaying to the beat.

"I'll get drinks," Rhett said into Link's ear, slipping into the crowd, his height keeping him from disappearing.  It was a gesture that he repeated two more times, in between Link's two visits to the bar, and a bikini-clad waitress visiting them with Jell-O shots.  The easy-going party atmosphere made them feel welcome, and made it easy to overindulge. 

They'd found a table at the edge of the lower dance floor and leaned heavily against the backs of their barstools.  Link had unbuttoned his shirt, leaving the white tank beneath to glow. 

"How did this not make it into the Vacation video?" Rhett asked to no one as their waitress dropped another pair of small blue cups in front of them.

"Getting bombed on blueberry Jell-O...totally our demographic," Link replied.  "So relatable!"

"When did we claim to be role models, though?  Right?  I mean...right?" Rhett continued, tongue seemingly heavy in his mouth. 

Link laughed and shrugged, using his own cup to slide Rhett's across the table.  Rhett continued his new diatribe.

"I'm not...I don't want to.  Here.  Right?  It's vacation, a respite from schedules and deadlines, and being so...good!" he shouted over the music, lips turning down in a comically serious expression. 

"Got it.  And what are you gonna do?  How you gonna rebel from all that goodness?" Link fired back, waiting for a response worth toasting.  It didn't come.

"Don't know.  But look at you!  Look at that arm!"  Link pulled up his right sleeve, showing off his new temporary artwork.  Rhett nodded and continued. "Me?  I'll know it when I see it.  Or say it," he whispered, dramatically gasping at his revelation.  He was on a tear, and he knew it.  Then, without warning, he snatched the cup off the table. "Fuck it!" he announced, raising his shot.

Link's attention dissolved into laughter at the immaturity of the conversation. 

" _What_?" he asked, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. 

"You know, _it._ The proverbial _it._   Fuck it!"

Link shook his head and tapped their plastic cups together.  "Fuck it," Link agreed, causing them both to laugh again before they downed their drinks.

A catchy drum line took over the sound system and Rhett pushed himself out of the barstool.

"For my next act, I'm gonna dance."

"Ooh, boy," Link called with mock surprise, slipping out of his own seat.  They took only a few steps before being fully submerged in the bodies crowding the space.  Moving easily to the beat, they lost sight of each other as women came to their sides.  A brunet bumped her hip into Rhett's to get his attention while a redhead locked her hands around Link's neck.  His eyes widened in the forwardness of the act, but he did not flinch.  She did not speak, but chose instead to sing, or rather, shout, along with the music playing overhead. 

_Baby, I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight._

"'I love cheap thrills!'"

He laughed at the catchiness of it, and joined in, shouting the same line toward the ceiling as she hung off of him.  Her hands felt cool on his skin, the foreign touch a bit unwanted and equally thrilling.  Spinning quickly, she pressed her back to his chest, leaning further into him until her backside touched his pelvis, causing him to pull back, finding her hands holding his arms in place.  They stayed locked together until the song came to a crescendo, when she turn back around and ripped the loose Hawaiian shirt off his arms, tying it tightly over her hair.  She leaned into him, her mouth inches from his ear as she shouted, "Come find me if you want this back."

Newly abandoned, Link stood in the midst of glistening bodies, swaying in a stupor to an unfamiliar tune.  His eyes scanned the faces around him, but he couldn't find the one he wanted, newly spinning vision challenging his ability to focus.  Giving up the task, he closed his eyes and hoped to stay upright.

_Smoke and sunset, off Mulholland.  He was talking. I was wondering 'bout you and that girl. She your girlfriend?_

Large hands fell upon his hips, both grounding him and helping him move more intently to the beat.  The close air inspired him to keep his eyes closed, welcoming the wildness.  The fingers tightened their grip, digging into his skin.  When he again became aware of his own hands, he found them over his head, rocking with the movement of his hips until they fell backward and grazed a rough patch of hair.

Link spun around, face to neck with Rhett, who was laughing. 

"What happened to you?  I was gone for like, five minutes, and you're gettin' undressed!"

Link gave a lopsided grin and shrugged, choosing to take the nonverbal route from this point. 

"You degraded real quick, huh?" Rhett shouted, a broad smile on his face as Link's half-lidded eyes struggled to track his face.  "It's the standing up.  You're fine 'til you start movin' around.  I'm the same way."

_Uh-oh, dancin' past the point of no return. Let go, we can free ourselves of all we've learned._

Link nodded, bouncing along to what he swore would be his new favorite song.  He told Rhett as much by pointing to the ceiling and bobbing his head emphatically.

"Like this one, huh?"

He nodded again, leaning his head back as a drop of sweat ran down the front of his neck.  He'd given himself over to the music, letting his body rock as it wanted, eyes watching a spinning ceiling.  The close bodies pushed them toward one another, and Rhett had to face him directly to leave them room to move.  Occasionally, their arms grazed in passing, giving Link a sudden insight into how hot Rhett felt.  At one point, he thought Rhett had forced contact, prolonging the touch of his thigh to Link's hip.  Link felt no inclination to resist, but he did feel the gaze that never left his upturned face.  For a fleeting moment, he toyed with the notion that this was the reason he was enjoying himself so much.  Then, from the corner of his eye, he caught Rhett smirking.  He lowered his head to raise an accusatory eyebrow.  Rhett raised his palms in innocence, face just as amused as it had appeared in the hot tub the night before.  Link recognized the expression; it made his face flush with the feeling that he was being left out of something, or worse, that he was the butt of an unspoken joke.

"You look mad.  You mad?" Rhett asked, addressing the clear look on Link's face.  "It's an odd sight, an angry man dancing." He mimicked the motion of Link's shoulders with a scowl on his face.  He didn't want to, but Link smiled.  Rhett leaned in closer, ensuring that he'd be heard. 

"I'm not laughing at you!" he slurred, revealing how far gone he too felt.  "I think...you're gonna laugh at me.  I think I was checking you out," he confessed, snorting a laugh as he spoke.

He was right: Link laughed. 

"It's this," he tried to explain, pointing to the tattoos covering the upper half of Link's arm. "They just...who knows?  I had a confusing, distracted moment.  Sorry 'bout that."

Link shook his head, waving off the apology then raising his hands over his head again to dance suggestively, no longer listening to the words of his song.  Rhett smiled at the joke, but did not look away.  This allowed him to catch Link as a body bumped him roughly from behind, knocking him off balance.  The sudden weight of him nearly caused Rhett to lose his own balance in the crowd.  Long arms wrapped tightly around him to keep them both standing.  Their wide eyes met for the briefest moment, faces inches apart, before Link peeled himself away.  He stumbled again, suddenly without the support of another body. 

"Come on, you're dr...you don't have your sea legs," Rhett said, taking hold of his wrist and leading Link to a darkened corner of the space and pointing to the wall.  "Lean."

Link exhaled a laugh. He pressed himself into the wall, closing his eyes against the cool plaster on his back, lips curling in a relieved grin. 

"What happened to your shirt?" Rhett asked again, eyes lingering a moment on his exposed collarbones.  Link could have answered the question.  He knew.  He had the words.  But he just shrugged his left shoulder, then, amused by the motion, kept shrugging it in a low key attempt at dancing to the beat. It made Rhett laugh, so he kept it up, bending his knees slightly, bobbing in place.  His head rolled from side to side, face slack and serious, the goofy grin replaced with an unfocused predatory expression.  It seemed to unnerve Rhett, who turned to look out at the crowd, searching for the Hawaiian shirt.  Without an audience, Link let his eyes fall closed.  They didn't need to be open for him to notice when the lights flared then dimmed as the music died completely before the next song.  A quiet female voice sang through distortion over the speakers.

  _I love your projection, but I don't love you._

A few voices cheered, marking this particular song as an important one in the bar.  The beat cut through the noise of the crowd and resonated in their chests.  Rhett turned back toward him, and Link felt the shift immediately.  They were suddenly living in an alternate universe, one of Rhett's colorful theories, where so much was exactly the same, with only the smallest, almost imperceptible difference.  The air between them had been primed with alcohol, made flammable, volatile.  They could have stood on opposite ends of the bar and no one would have stepped between them for fear of upsetting the dangerous, fragile atmosphere.  But against the hot air and music so loud that they couldn't even try to talk, it didn't stand a chance.

Link didn't know who moved first.  It didn't matter; he'd never remember such a small detail in the face of the fire pulling the oxygen from his lungs.  Rhett towered over him, forearms resting on the cool wall over each of his shoulders.  Their lips met quickly at first, each testing potentially poisonous waters.  They both smirked, trying to look more confident than they felt.  As Rhett leaned in again, Link broke into a full smile, causing their teeth to clash, drawing throaty laughs from them both.  They tried again, this time connecting with a force that melted Rhett's laugh into a groan.  He pressed his chest into Link, holding him in place. 

Link's head reeled as he tried to reconcile a familiar act with the unfamiliar sensations of facial hair, of crossing boundaries, of looking _up_.  He pulled Rhett's lower lip between his teeth, running the tip of his tongue across the smooth skin, earning a deep sigh to which he was immediately addicted.  The place was far too loud; he wanted to hear everything.  Stretching his neck upward was not enough, and his hazy mind had only a single solution.  He slid his arms around Rhett's neck and jumped, wrapping his legs around the waist that had not yet dared to push against him.  Rhett had no choice at this point; he had to lean his entire body into Link to hold him against the wall.  The boldness of the motion pulled a quiet, "Oh my god," from his lips.  Link laughed, further spurred to surprise the man now holding him up.  His fingers clawed their way into Rhett's hair, grazing his scalp and holding a fistful as his teeth again sank gently into his lower lip.  They stayed in this position for the duration of the song, lights flashing on and off around them, air close and isolating at the same time, making them feel completely alone in a sea of people. 

Link opened his eyes to a world that he could see spinning.  It made him smile a crooked smile, a few strands of dark hair falling onto his face.  Rhett pushed them away before settling his face into the crook of Link's neck and breathing him in. The smaller man knew he smelled of sweat and liquor; he didn't care.  But as he began to feel a tongue tasting the skin beneath his ear, his legs dropped from Rhett's waist, and he maneuvered out of his place against the wall. 

Rhett turned and looked cautiously into his face, grins threatening both of their guarded expressions.  Link took a deep breath and blinked without fully closing his eyes. 

"Let's get out of here."

Rhett nodded and started following him back toward the door, eyes skimming up and down his bare arms.  As they approached the exit, he grabbed Link's shoulder to talk into his ear.

"I'll meet you outside."

Link nodded, and as he moved toward the exit alone, he touched the space beneath his ear and shivered.


	4. The Man Who Jumped

The night air breathed its oxygen into Link, cooling him down the second the door closed behind him.  He took a few slow steps down the sidewalk before dropping to sit on the curb.  His drinks kept him floating just above the riptide of confusion and guilt.  He sensed it, waiting for him in sobriety, hand in hand with a churning stomach and a headache, but for this moment, he did not fear it.  It came with the territory that Rhett had led them into, toasting a night, a week, a trip of bad behavior that, personally, he'd doubted they ever had in them.  They did not tend to stray from the straight and narrow, even at their most rambunctious parties, of which there were fewer every year.  When he'd raised his shot, he'd thought of exploring restricted beaches, of overspending, of staying out all night, of drinking too much, perhaps even finding some marijuana, of unleashing themselves on the island.  But they'd turned inward, unleashing themselves on each other. 

In short, he was impressed.

"How pretty am I?"

Link turned toward the voice, finding Rhett strolling down the sidewalk with the lost Hawaiian shirt tied on his head. 

"My shirt!  I thought it was lost forever," he cried, leaning back on his hands on the sidewalk.

"It probably should have been.  But I just couldn't let it go," Rhett spoke in his signature female impression.  He reached Link's spot and looked down at the lazily grinning man.  "You're way down there, huh?"

"Can't fall off the ground," Link replied. 

"Not for lack of trying," Rhett said offering his hand.  Link grabbed it and pulled himself up with more force than needed, jumpstarting his trek down the street.  After only four steps, Rhett's arm landed across his shoulders.  He stretched his own up to mirror the gesture, and they each leaned on the other, leaving the outside world no room to question their altered state.

 

* * *

 

By the time they'd reached their door, Link had sobered a bit, the cool island breeze talking him down as Rhett spoke of the colorful characters he'd seen in the bar.  The conversation maneuvered gingerly around the few minutes during which Link was pressed against a wall.  As far as an eavesdropper might tell, that had never happened.

But it had.  Link had replayed it a dozen times over by their arrival, never making any more sense of it than before.  He'd grown anxious as they'd neared the resort, still unsure what to say about it, if anything.  Unsure of how to spin it into a joke.

He'd reached the bed and sat upright by the time the door closed behind Rhett.  Neither had switched on the lights.  The darkness emphasized the sound of the handle latching, locking them out of the safety of the outside world.  It couldn't be avoided: their conversational filters had been compromised.  Rhett took the verbal leap while walking to the couch.

"Thirty years is a long time.  It was bound to happen, right?  Isn't that what people say?"

"It is.  That _is_ what people say.  I think they're usually talking about one's college years, but..."

"But...we're on vacation.  Drinking, having fun, being stupid.  It was stupid."

Link's head turned at the words.  He craned his neck to look over his shoulder at Rhett, who had slumped against the back of the couch.  The words slipped out too easily, leaving him internally reaching to pull them back, but they pushed past his lips and hung in the open space between them, sucking the air out of the room: "Was it?"

Pulling the shirt off of his hair, Rhett froze.  Link turned to fully face him, leaning coolly against the headboard, staring him down by the dim light of the half moon creeping in the glass door.  He'd lost his fight to keep the words in, but was deeply curious as to what might be done with them.

Rhett stood, and Link felt his stomach drop.  He pushed himself up onto his knees, shifting to meet Rhett at the edge of the bed.  At only inches apart, it was clear that Rhett couldn't keep his balance without shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  He placed his hands on Link's shoulders, smirking at his own state, at their collective decision making, at the situation itself.  His fingers traced down the black markings on Link's arm.  Link let his head fall back a bit as he looked up, searching for some direction in Rhett's face.  It wasn't there; it was every man for himself.  As the large hands slid up to cup each side of his jaw, he closed his eyes. 

Eons passed before their lips came together again, but as soon as they did, Link remembered the sigh he'd elicited earlier and wanted to hear it again.  He wrapped his arms around Rhett's neck, pulling him closer until his knees hit the bed.  The taller man pulled back just enough to slip his fingers up the side of Link's face and slide off his glasses, placing them carefully on the nightstand.  Link leaned with him as he did so, unwilling to let him go.  Once the glasses were safely down, he pulled with more force, guiding Rhett's knees onto the edge of the bed and sliding his own out from under him until they lay horizontal.  With his knees between Link's, Rhett held himself up by the forearms now again placed on either side of the smaller man's head.

They kissed slowly, lazily, growing more comfortable in their respective positions.  They'd reached a destination they liked, and showed no interest in moving on, each exploring the landscape of the other's mouth.  Rhett's tongue slid against Link's lips until they parted, allowing passage into dangerous territory.  As their tongues met, he exhaled heavily, and Link couldn't help but grin.  Rhett smiled at himself as he realized what had amused Link so much.  He set about returning the favor, pulling Link's lip into his mouth and sucking until Link groaned, helpless against the barrage of kisses that soon peppered his chin and jaw, working their way back to his neck, where Rhett's tongue danced up and down, lingering again beneath his ear.  He whimpered when it pulled away, only to further dissolve the second that teeth closed gently on his earlobe, rolling it back and forth over a hot tongue.  His eyes flashed open in surprise, and with a life of its own, his hand wound into Rhett's hair again.

Watching the static ceiling fan, Link felt his mind dividing.  He wanted to focus solely on the feeling of the tongue, the lips, the teeth tracing lines across his neck, but the weight of his eyelids demanded attention.   He recognized that his fearlessness was an effect of the liquor in his veins and that as one faded away, the other would follow.  He also believed that the novelty of the moment would keep him awake, even if he dared to close his eyes again.  But he'd been wrong before.

The pure darkness felt like home, made warmer by the breath exhaled against his skin.  His muscles betrayed him, hand falling slack onto the bed by his side, head rolling just enough to give him away.  As sleep came to claim him, he heard a soft laugh from far away and a gentle voice speak.

"Okay.  See you in the morning."

* * *

 

 Where once the sun had been warm and ethereal, it was now harsh and blinding, an angry spotlight on actors who did not know their lines.  It forced Link's eyes open, dragging him into the day with a head that pounded and a stomach that burned.

Immediately, he recognized that he lay sideways at the foot of the bed, facing the deck, on top of the covers, still in his clothes from the night before.  He closed his eyes to process the details for a minute, then opened them again, lowering his head to glance at the couch.  As in the previous two days, it was empty, and he shook his head, wondering how Rhett continued to rise so early, even after a night of drinking.  After another moment of closed eyes, he rolled onto his back and flinched when his hand landed on top of another.  Rhett lay on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, face to the ceiling as he slept too deeply to react to the contact.  Link instinctively bit his lip, mind racing too quickly to form coherent thoughts.  He had slipped off the bed and closed the bathroom door behind him by the time he realized he'd been holding his breath.

Bracing himself on the sink, he began to buzz with nervous energy.  His reflection caused him to sigh in disgust.  His hair stuck out in every direction; his bloodshot eyes were puffy; his lips were dry to the verge of cracking. 

"You're an idiot," he whispered harshly to himself.  He washed his face roughly, running wet fingers through his hair to straighten it out before padding back into the room and changing into basketball shorts and a t-shirt.  In a minute flat, he was gone.

 

When he swung the door open an hour later, the bungalow smelled of fresh coffee, and the bed covers had been straightened.  Rhett was leaning on the rail of the deck, looking down into the water below, hair still down and messy from a recent shower.  He heard the door close and turned his head, waiting for Link to approach.  When that didn't happen, he pushed himself upright and came back inside.  Link was gathering new clothes from the dresser, face predictably closed off.

"Did you go jogging?" Rhett asked at the sight of sweat covering Link's body.

"I did.  I still hate it."

"Sweating out the sins?" he followed up, referring to Link's old habit of working out after a night of overindulgence.

"It works."

"It's insane.  The body hurts because it's dehydrated.  Exercise in that state doesn't make any sense."

"Adrenaline.  Endorphins."

Rhett nodded, leaning against the glass door's frame and crossing his arms. 

"So..."

"Can we not?  Can we just not do this?" Link asked, making eye contact for the first time since the night before.  "Let's just...mulligan."

Rhett frowned, but nodded.  "Yeah, of course.  Mulligan."

A weight lifted from Link's shoulders, but he was suspicious of the relief.  "Okay."

"You still want to rent those mopeds?"

Little sounded less appealing to his body than to ride around an island in the sun, but Link knew that they needed occupation.  They were on the edge of a conversation that he simply did not want to have, and nothing could be more distracting than an open-air driving tour.  On separate vehicles, they couldn't do much talking.

"Of course.  I mean, if you feel up to it."

Rhett replied matter-of-factly, "Oh, I feel like shit.  But when have I ever let that stop me?"

Link nodded, then headed for the shower.

 

Four hours later, they'd toured a park on the outskirts of the town, visiting wetlands and watching birds fish off of rocky beaches.  They'd seen an old cathedral, where more than once, Link resisted the urge to whisper for forgiveness of the old statues guarding the grounds.  He'd watched Rhett from a distance as they walked, finding him remarkably undistracted and comfortable, engrossed in their new surroundings.  He willed himself to feel the same.

Now, they sat on their bikes, finishing bottles of water at the edge of a dirt road.  Rhett looked at his phone, and from the safety of dark sunglasses, Link looked at him. 

"So, we keep going up this road, and there's a group of waterfalls.  Looks a little...jungle-ish," he said in warning.  Link shrugged.

"There's a road; it can't be that bad."

"Yeah.  It'll be nice to get out of the city.  Into the trees, the quiet."

 _The quiet_ didn't sound as appealing to Link, but he couldn't deny that he wanted to see the natural landscape of the island. 

They took off, Link hanging a few feet behind Rhett as they followed the dirt road inland.  Each visibly sighed as the road became shady under the protection of exotic flora.  They rode for twenty minutes before Rhett led them into an empty parking lot and shut off his engine. 

"There's the path," he said, taking off on foot without looking back. 

The trek was verbally barren, accompanied strictly by songs of unseen insects accompanied by bright birds.  As they walked, Link watched his own feet, stepping around rocks and dips that Rhett's stride seemed to miss naturally.  He nearly walked right into Rhett's back as he came to an unannounced stop in the middle of the path.

"Look at that," Rhett said, pointing to a tree thirty feet off the path.  It rose from a natural clearing, the palms and bushes around it giving it the space it deserved. Its greenery was held up not by a single trunk, but rather by dozens of thick roots.  The eye struggled to discern whether they grew up from the ground or fell down from the branches, weaving an intricate pattern across a wide expanse of the forest.  Rhett moved toward it, reaching out to touch one of the roots.  Link followed closely.

"It's a Banyan," Rhett said, running his fingers along the smooth bark.  "In ancient times, they believed this tree came from the moon." 

"Naturally," Link replied, making Rhett laugh.  The sound of it released tension that Link hadn't known he'd carried in his shoulders.   He stood back, watching Rhett gaze at the intricate design made by the climbing, crossing roots as they dwarfed him in their shadow.

"They placed their dead in between these roots.  Wove them into the tree."

"Sure.  Why wouldn't they?" Link asked, touching a vertical root.  "How do you know this?"

"Read it somewhere.  It's a pretty remarkable tree.  Stuck with me."

Link nodded, impressed with Rhett's ability to retain seemingly pointless information.  As he did so, his ears caught a welcome sound on the breeze.

"Hear that?  Is that water?"

Rhett faced the direction of the path, nodding.  With a farewell pat to the tree, he stepped away, leading them toward the sound.  It took only a few more minutes of walking uphill before the trees cleared away around a small drop.  Rhett looked over the edge of the rock face and grinned.  At the bottom, shallow waters glistened in the sun, rippling from the pressure of a twenty foot waterfall at its far side. 

"This is the smallest one.  It stems from a larger one further up, and then the last one is a quarter mile or so past that.  Want to see all of 'em?" Rhett asked, looking out at the white water.

"Sure, we're here," Link answered, taking off for the source of the falls.  Finding the second pool was simple, taking only a couple minutes of walking upstream.  It seemed to have been less popular than the first, with wild plants growing out of the once-cleared pathways.  They walked for another five minutes straight into the dense forest, following almost invisible signs for the final falls.  It was the third location that gave them pause.

The overgrowth opened before them as the ground inclined on either side of their path, forming a nearly perfect circle around the deep blue pool at the bottom, raising toward a white fall over one hundred feet tall.  The water did not roar down the rocks; it moved in an easy stream, with just enough force to catch air and glow white as it fell over the cliff side.  Link stepped up to the edge, taking a long look at the twenty foot drop, eyes scanning the ground around the pool.  Rhett followed his gaze and immediately stepped back.

"No.  No way, man.  You're not doing that."

"Oh, please.  Look," he directed, pointing.  "That little path leads back up.  It meets the one we were just on.  I saw a turnoff a minute ago; that must be it."

"Wild idea: let's just take the path down there, then.  You don't know how deep that water is," Rhett argued, fighting what he knew to be an uphill battle as the voice of reason.

"Deep.  Look how dark it is."

"I won't rescue you when you hit a rock and break your neck."

"Just get me back to the tree.  Put me in the roots."

Rhett raised his hands in forfeit.  "Alright, King of Bad Ideas.  It's your life to live and end as you choose," he kidded.  "See you down there."  Link kicked off his shoes handed them over with his glasses and the contents of his pockets before Rhett turned and walked toward the small, downward path.

Left alone at the top of the cliff, Link took a long look at the water, watching the path it followed on its way down, seeing where constant contact had worn away the hard rock beneath.  Constant contact tended to do that.

At the verge of recklessness, he felt half his age.  The scene was familiar enough; he'd stood atop similar cliffs in North Carolina, looking down into a pond, a lake, a river.  The leap was something all his own, something he could do that Rhett would not.  He remembered the explanation Rhett had given as they sat on a rock above the Cape Fear River. 

"I'm not afraid of the falling itself.  I just don't want to go crashing into the bottom.  The risk isn't worth the reward."

Link disagreed.  He happily paid with bruises for a feeling so close to flight. 

A last look straight down confirmed the height of the drop, the depth of the water, and the availability of an escape from the pool, so Link took several long steps backward.  After a single deep breath, he took off, sprinting to the edge and springing with all his strength out into the open air. 

His mind went blank, primal with the will to survive.  Adrenaline shot through him, lighting a fire to his muscles that the cool water beneath quickly extinguished.  The pool swallowed him easily, pulling him from the world of sight and sound into one of darkness, silence, and weightlessness.  For a long moment, he did not swim; he never resurfaced quickly.  He preferred to linger at the bottom, taunting danger. 

He came back up to the sound of laughter and applause.  Rhett, his one-man audience, sat on a rock at the edge of the water, kicking his own shoes off and wearing Link's sunglasses.

"Nice howl," he said.  Link tilted his head in confusion.  "Did you not know you did that?  Just yelled the _whole_ way down.  Sounded like an animal!" he laughed, causing Link to break out in a smile. 

"It just comes out, I guess.  Wow."

"You've always done that.  So, what now, your highness?"

"I guess I'm gonna swim now.  I mean, I'm here."

"Right," Rhett replied, placing the sunglasses in one of Link's shoes before pushing himself up and pulling off his own shirt. 

"The water feels awesome," Link said, leaning to float on his back.

"We'll see how you feel when you're wearing it back to town." 

Link groaned, failing to have fully thought this through.  He swam over to Rhett's rock and pulled himself out, body suddenly heavy with waterlogged clothes. 

"Just lay them out.  They'll dry in no time."

Link turned to face the trees, his back to Rhett as he fought out of the wet clothes.  A twinge of doubt rose in his throat as he undressed to his underwear, but he swallowed it down in the name of his own future comfort.  He glanced back to find Rhett already swimming toward the opposite end of the pool, then peeled his last remaining clothing off, reminding himself that this was not the first time he'd swum naked, that he could always make it a joke.  He was not the man who sacrificed out of fear; he was the man who jumped.

Still, he moved quickly to get back in the water, diving in before Rhett turned back toward him. 

They trod water several feet apart, talking about the trees and birds they'd seen, trying to make comparisons to what lived in their home state and agreeing that this was, in fact, a world of its own.  Link reminded him again that they shared an ocean, but Rhett shook his head, arguing that the shores were too far apart to be the same.

Link persisted: "It doesn't work that way.  You can't separate water like that.  It might have its own individual molecules, but put together, it's a single entity.  It can't be divided between shores.  I'm telling you, it's the same."

Rhett could only laugh at how far Link was willing to argue against his absurdity.  To escape the pointless debate, Link swam into the waterfall, letting the water rush over him, massaging his shoulders with its pressure.  Moving further underneath the falls, he smiled at an unlikely discovery: the water was a curtain for a shallow grotto. Rock jutted out four feet beneath the surface, giving him room to stand in water for a moment.  The floor of the alcove had been worn smooth, and invited him up onto it.  Pulling himself out, he called to Rhett, announcing his find.  He turned and sat on the edge, feet submerged.

"How deep does it go?" Rhett asked, voice indicating his proximity.

"Not very.  I can see the back of it. You'd better stay out, or you're gonna see more than you want," Link fired back, leaning forward to fold his arms carefully in his lap.

"I'm not looking.  You don't get to claim the cool spot by virtue of nakedness."  With that, he broke through the water, hand running over his face before his eyes opened in wonder at the hidden space.  He pulled himself up onto the edge of the floor and faced outward, watching the rush of water pass as it blocked out the rest of the pool.  Link couldn't help but notice that he'd made the same choice of swimwear.

"This is awesome," Rhett said, glancing at the rock around him. 

"I know.  It doesn't seem real.  This whole place is kind of unreal."

Rhett smiled softly and nodded.  "Yeah," he sighed, saying more with his tone than with the agreement itself.  Link heard it.  He pulled his feet out of the water and sat back against the rocky wall, a deep breath the only prelude to the question:

"What was that about last night?"

Rhett ran a hand through his hair and stared forward, slouching onto his elbow on his thighs.  The shift in posture made him smaller, more protected. 

"What happened to the mulligan?"

"I'm not attacking.  I'm just...what the hell?  Right?"

"I don't think you actually want to discuss this.  You're gonna analyze and pick it all apart until you drive yourself crazy."

"I'm going to do that whether we talk about it or not."

"So don't drag me down with you."

Link balked.  "Ha!  Drag _you_ down?  You pushed me against the wall!"

"You jumped on me," Rhett replied, still staring outward.

"And in the room?  You were on top of me."

"You put me there.  You literally dragged me down."  Rhett laughed incredulously.  "Don't do this, Link.  There's not a move I made that you didn't initiate, and you don't see me getting defensive."

"What about the Jacuzzi?  You...my finger," he protested, leaning forward in a last ditch effort to free himself of responsibility.

" _You_ were feeding _me_.  This is _your_ game," he said, before finally turning to look at Link. "I'm just better at it."

Link sank back and picked at his fingernails, eyes safely averted when he finally spoke again.  "It didn't feel like a game."

"That's the difference between a game and a joke.  We were _both_ playing."  With that, Rhett slid back off of the rock, face turned up into the waterfall. 

Link felt the urge to reach out after him, but he pulled his knees to his chest instead.  Unsure if he even wanted to be heard, he said lowly, "So it's over, then."  It came out sounding more like a question than he anticipated.

Rhett lowered his head and turned back, eyes surprisingly warm as he answered.  "Like I said, I'm just along for the ride."

It wasn't an invitation, but it didn't need to be. 


	5. Beneath the Falls

Link moved to the edge of the rock as modestly as possible, wordlessly beckoning Rhett to meet him there.  His arms stayed in his lap as he looked down into Rhett's face.  He flinched as Rhett put his hands on the rock, framing each side of Link's hips, but avoiding contact.  In that moment, that proximity, it became clear that this time, someone had to move first.  There was no fog of inebriation to hide beneath, nothing to distort the memory now. 

They waited each other out, gazes flickering from eyes to jaws, whispering dares that their tongues could not.  Rhett licked his lips, a smirk of anticipation coloring his features.   Link couldn't help but smile in response, suddenly feeling suspended in the tension between them.  It fit him well, cradling him so comfortably that he eagerly sought it out on a regular basis.  It was only now that he realized how happy he might be if it finally broke.  As Rhett seemed to know he would, Link leaned forward, closing the gap.

Their lips were cautious, timid in the light of day, each recognizing that they need not push so hard to enjoy the sensation.  There was no pulsing music to crash them into each other; they had to set their own pace.  And it was slow.  Link raised a hand to Rhett's face, exploring the angular bones of his cheek and jaw, drawing him upward until he seemed to hang from delicate fingertips.  This move was met with one of Rhett's own: his hands slid inward, grabbing hold of Link's bare waist, causing his back to arch and their chests to come into full contact.  Mutual pleasure reached deep into their stomachs, teasing their minds toward much more satisfying sensations.  Wanting to be closer, Link wrapped his arms around Rhett's neck, reveling in the familiarity of the feel, recognizing just how similar their positions were to the night before.  Rhett seemed to notice, too, and worked toward something different, pulling the body in his hands down into the water, leaving Link to hang from his shoulders until his feet found the stone bottom.  When he could stand on his own, Link stepped carefully around Rhett, painting his shoulder in feathery kisses until he reached his back, where his wet hands took over, running smoothly up each side of a long spine, leaving trails of water wherever they went.  Rhett sighed into the touch, letting his head fall back as Link's right hand traveled up his neck and came to rest in his hair and the left wrapped gently under his own arm and across his chest, fingers splayed in an attempt to touch as much as possible.  They both noticed how possessive the gesture seemed.  They both liked it. 

Loneliness set in quickly, so Rhett turned within Link's embrace to face him.  He allowed himself to be guided, the water giving Link the chance to control the much larger man's body.  Their lips met again as Link pressed him backward into the low rock wall, hands guiding each long leg around his own waist until they connected with mutual exhalations, each finding answers to questions that hadn't fully formed.  Their identical responses made them laugh, injecting a ribbon of reality into the moment, persuading them that this was just another way of having fun together.  With his signature dexterity, Link curled his hips inward, sliding against Rhett, dragging a guttural sigh from deep within him. 

 "You like that?" Link asked into his neck, surprising himself with his bravery.  His voice had gone breathy, low in his throat.  Rhett answered by tightening his legs' grip, causing Link to snicker into his skin.  Too close to look at each other, Rhett let his hands explore the expanse of Link's back and sides, fingers pressing tight enough to dip between ribs.  A shiver washed through him as Link slipped his hands down the outside of his thighs, coming to rest on his backside, squeezing the handfuls he found there.  It was a power play, but Rhett wasn't ready to surrender control.  He raised his arms to wrap around Link's neck and pulled himself up, still in Link's embrace, but towering over him.  His fingers wove into wet black hair and pulled, turning Link's face upward, leaving his long neck vulnerable to the teeth that quickly sank into it, gentle nips and deep bites sparking a new tension in his muscles.  He could take only so much teasing before he found himself lifting Rhett out of the water, setting him back on the grotto's floor. 

"Wow," Rhett whispered, admiring the rare show of strength.  Now fully exposed, he leaned back on his elbows, looking down the length of his body at Link, who maintained eye contact as he pulled himself languidly out of the water into the space between Rhett's knees. 

His chest heaved with deep breaths, the alcove suddenly short on air, but Link had tethered himself to his confidence and refused to back down.  The modesty was gone; he dropped his chest low and slid his dripping body all the way up Rhett's own, etching the feel of the skin beneath him into his memory, noting each whimper and sigh the act inspired, until they finally lay face to face, the full weight of Link pressing down into Rhett.

"Just how far of a ride are you up for?" Link asked, eyes burning into Rhett, who replied by arching his eyebrow and cocking his head.

"How far can you take me?"

Link mirrored the expression, tilting his own head as he considered the question, then breaking into a devilish grin that made Rhett shudder again.  He lowered his head, kissing and tasting Rhett's shoulder, closely minding the squirming hips beneath him before he brought them to a stiff halt by grinding his own pelvis downward.  Long arms tried to wrap around Link's back, but he slid out of them, working his way back down Rhett's body by way of deep kisses and testing bites, closing his teeth on the flesh of the chest, the stomach, the sides left unprotected.  His hands gripped Rhett tightly, thumbs digging into hipbones, a particularly sensitive place of his own.  He moved expertly around the obvious point of interest, choosing instead to sample the fair skin of Rhett's legs, licking long trails up the insides of his thighs, nipping at the softest spaces and watching his stomach tense at the sensation.  Rhett sighed and hummed, uttering noises of approval and surprise that soon turned to frustration and helplessness.

Working himself out of room between Rhett's knees, Link slowly dropped back into the water, standing with the edge of the alcove's floor lining up with his collarbones.  He had an eye for staging and used his environment to his advantage, wanting to give Rhett something to look at.  His hands closed around the pale hips again and with another display of surprising strength, he slid Rhett's body toward him, leaving long legs to dangle off the edge into the water as he ran his tongue up the delicate crease where they connected to a firm torso.  Rhett writhed on the ground, hating the tickle but unwilling to sacrifice the touch in hopes that it might move inward.  He did not have to wait long.

Link had been sizing him up with as many peripheral glances as he could manage, intentionally working to drive Rhett a little crazy so that he might not notice the uncertainty with which he was to be handled.  This wasn't entirely new; Link knew what felt good to himself, and Rhett had made it clear that, no matter what happened, he was on board.  He confirmed the sentiment by letting his eyes fall closed and biting his lip as nimble fingers closed around him for the first time.  Link moved slowly, loosening his grip as he pulled upward, tightening it on the way back down, thumb brushing lightly across the tip.  He watched himself work, trying to escape a sudden feeling of intimidation by stealing quick looks at Rhett's face.  His expression of shameless pleasure fueled the fire burning low in Link's stomach.  He decided to take advantage of closed eyes.

The sudden heat of Link's mouth caused Rhett's back to arch off the ground, a guttural moan fighting past his lips and bouncing off the rocks surrounding them.  He quickly felt Link smile around him and chanced a glance down his own body, becoming instantly mesmerized by the sight: backed by the waterfall, Link rose from the pool, one hand holding onto his hip, the other pumping him in tandem with a dangerous mouth.  Link's cheeks hollowed with the effort, adding an inexplicable heat to his gaze when he dared eye contact, burning away at Rhett's self-control.  He reached down, grabbing Link's hair and holding fast.  The gesture inspired a shift in Link's position: his left arm wound beneath Rhett's leg and stretched upward, hand splaying tightly across his abdomen; his right hand slid down his own chest and disappeared in the water.  Rhett grinned at the image of his right leg draped over Link's shoulder.  It would stay with him for a long time.

Without the his hand as a barrier, Link found himself testing his limits, inching farther down with every bob of his head, chasing deeper, thicker moans from Rhett.  He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly before relaxing his tongue and nearly sinking his nose into Rhett's pubic bone. 

"Oh, god," Rhett murmured through clenched teeth.  His hips shot up, instinctively thrusting into the back of Link's throat.  Link pulled off quickly, leaning his head to the side and coughing. Rhett's hand moved quickly to pet his hair in apologies.

"I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry!" he whispered, trying not to laugh at the entire scene.  "Oh, it felt so good.  I just lost it for a second," he explained, thumb wiping away a tear from the corner of Link's eye. 

"Get it under control," Link commanded, "or I'll return the favor."

"Ooh," Rhett purred, lying back down, eyes on the grotto's ceiling.  "Interesting prospect.  Ah!" His thought was interrupted by the broad stroke of a tongue running up the underside of his length, and he quickly found himself enveloped again in his new favorite place: Link's mouth.  Another peek downward revealed Link's right arm working in an easily recognizable pattern, shielded by the edge of the rock and the water beneath.  Knowing how turned on he was pushed Rhett to the edge, his breath hitching as his own hand replaced Link's mouth, which found new work on the sensitive skin of his sac.  The tension in his core gave him away, and Link pulled back, resting his head on Rhett's left thigh, eyes watching his large hand work in wonderment, his own lungs fighting for air as his left hand held fast to Rhett's side.  The muscle beneath his fingers tightened in sync with a breathy whine that caused Rhett's voice to crack.  The sound of it forced Link past the point of no return, his hips rising from the water for a moment as his body curled in on itself, supported only by his left arm as the fire in his belly spread through him, a wave of euphoria brushing quickly over him before he sank back down, breathing heavily into Rhett's skin.  Rhett followed suit, hips bucking again as he panted into his orgasm, the sudden deep bite of sharp teeth on his inner thigh causing him to cry out and thrust even harder into his hand.  Link smiled against his skin, watching Rhett paint his own stomach in blind pleasure. 

He lay for a long moment with his eyes closed, lingering in his own grip as the blood and feeling returned to the rest of his body.  The dripping sound of Link pulling himself out of the water spurred his eyes to open, though they did so slowly, as if afraid of what reality might be waiting for him in the stark daylight.  Link noticed his hesitance and offered a satisfied, lopsided smile to ease him back into the world.  After a deep breath, Rhett's lips curled into a smirk of his own.

"Is this where you tell me you've never done that before?" he asked.  The joke was crude, even for him.  A backhanded slap landed on his bicep as a laugh of disbelief escape Link's open mouth. 

"You ass."

"A natural gift, then?  That big mouth..."

"Hope you enjoyed it," Link shot back with a tone of finality.  Rhett's eyes went wide in mock sadness, and he turned onto his side, stretching a long arm around Link's stomach and curling in on him.  He rested his head on Link's shoulder, pulling him into an intentionally dramatic, though one-sided hug, intertwining their legs.

With their highs dissipating, each felt the barbs of hangovers digging back in, the sound of the waterfall lulling them into a light and welcome sleep.


	6. When it Rains

The sun seemed to set more slowly over the island, allowing time for a stop at local Asian cuisine storefront across from the moped rental shop.  Each carrying a water bottle and a large paper bag, they made the five minute walk to a small botanical garden.  Finding an empty bench at the top of a hill, they looked out over a nearly empty beach and ate in amicable silence.  More than once, Rhett dipped his chopsticks into one of Link's dishes, until they finally set all the boxes on the bench between them and ate freely, giving up the pretense of ownership. 

Tossing an empty box into one of the bags, Rhett shook his head. 

"Ol' faithful.  We should have eaten this much earlier."

"What's that?" Link asked without looking up from a box of rice.

"You wash away your liquor with sweat; I choose greasy food.  Works every time."

Link laughed.  "I can't argue. I mean, I'm still eating.  It's possible my strategy may not be quite so effective."

"Only took fifteen years to set you straight."  Pointing out at the water, Rhett smiled.  "Check that out."

Link looked up and squinted, finding two sailboats gliding across the water in the distance.  "Oh, wow.  Your dream come true. You want to flag 'em in, join 'em?  Take off sailing around the world, start your new life?"

"Just when this one's getting interesting?  No thanks."

Link's neck stiffened.  He covered with a quiet laugh, setting his food down.

"And besides, I don't think it was my plan to start a new life.  I was going to sail off into the sunset when I was ready to die."

"That doesn't make sense.  You'd have to be in pretty bad shape.  You couldn't manage your boat.  Not much of an adventure, making it a day out of port and croaking."

Rhett nodded.  "I'd figure it out."

"Unless you're talking about some kind of suicide situation, which is equally bleak, and puts the whole sailing community in a bad light.  And either way, you lose your boat to the sea once you're dead, which is just...needlessly expensive."

"Yeah, you're not wrong about that.  You'll have to come with me, get the boat back to shore."

"And do what with it?"

"Sell it.  Keep it.  I don't care: I'm dead."

"And did I just throw you overboard, or what?"

"I don't care: I'm dead."

"Well, I'm not transporting a body.  I'm presumably as old and decrepit as you at this point, remember.  Also, why do I have to do this?  Get your kids to do it."

"No, they'll have their own lives.  And jeez, how messed up would that be?  'Just going out for the weekend to kill old Dad.  Be back Sunday night.'" 

Link laughed in earnest.  "Oh, but not for me?  I have to spend my last years reliving the day I threw your body off your own boat?"

"You'll be senile.  You'll never remember.  You'll get back to port and think, 'What a nice weekend that was.'  And 'years,' huh?  You're outliving me by years?"

"This is your scenario.  I just assumed."

"Maybe I'll _really_ take you with me."

"Oh, a murder-suicide, nice.  You're still left with the abandoned boat in the middle of the ocean."

"Shit. Well, I have a few years to put this together."

With that, the topic was dropped, abandoned for a new, more pressing one.  Link rested an arm on the back of the bench as he spoke.

"Plans for the night?"

"Let's hit another bar.  We should wear our sarongs this time."

Link's face tightened, then quickly relaxed as Rhett's serious facade gave way. 

"I'm kidding.  I'm too old for that.  I could actually die."

"We'd be just two sad, sad men sitting at a bar.  In skirts."

Rhett laughed at the mental picture.  "No, I'm all for a low key night.  We missed the hot tub last night! Gotta get back on the streak."

Link nodded, letting the silence fall over them again.  In the midst of the quiet, his thoughts crept homeward without his permission, undermining any attempt at relaxation.  The world had shifted again, filling him with the sensation that he was losing his place, despite the blue-green eyes trying to anchor him in it.  His knee bounced out of his control for a full minute before he leaned to pull his phone out.  A short message waited for him on the home screen.

_All is well in NC; hope you're enjoying yourself.  Take pictures! xoxo_

"Feel better?" Rhett asked, jerking him out of the trance he'd fallen into by reading the words over and over.

"No, not really," Link answered honestly, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

"Didn't think so."

"I hope that's not superiority I hear."

"Oh, it's not.  Trust me.  I recognize the...just...completely messed up turn this took.  And fast.  I mean, night three."

Link chuckled humorlessly at the admission.  "Yeah."

"But," Rhett continued, eyes resting on the horizon, "I choose to compartmentalize.  There's something we're really going to have to figure out here.  There's a massive conversation that needs to happen, and a potential shit storm coming our way.  And there's not much I can do about it right now.  Not from this bench, this park, this island.  So I might as well enjoy what I have here."

"Letting yourself drown because the bottom is so pretty."

"Two things: A, I'm a strong swimmer, and B, we're not at the bottom.  You'll know the bottom when you hit," he explained coolly, punctuating with a long drink of water.

Link frowned.  "I hope that's not said from experience." 

Rhett exhaled, leaning back.  "Nah.  Just a feeling." 

Link carefully considered the exchange, growing increasingly fonder of Rhett's strategy.  It was reassuring to know that he wasn't the only one struggling with the morality of their sudden closeness.  It was just as comforting to consider that he didn't necessarily need to worry about it _right now_.  It could wait until they went home. The guilt would still be there.

"Okay," Link said, the tone of his voice clearly implying an announcement.  Rhett turned to look into his face again.  "I can do that.  I mean, we're just having fun here.  It's fine.  We can sort it out on our own continent.  Let's not ruin this.  Let's just..." His hand moved in a smooth sailing gesture.  Rhett grinned.

"Okay.  Agreed.  Go with the flow."

"You might have to remind me."

Rhett looked back out at the ocean, the evening tide creeping higher up the distant beach with every wave. 

"I can do that."

 

 

Two hours later, they'd hung Jacuzzi-soaked trunks on the balcony, taken quick showers, and dressed down to their underwear, a dim sconce by the front door offering the only light to the bungalow's interior. 

The small TV hanging in the corner of the room glowed, a news program playing quietly to a less-than-captive audience.  Link settled into the bed, placing his glasses on the nightstand.  As he did so, he caught Rhett starting to lay his blankets on the couch.  A small laugh escaped him, causing Rhett to turn.

"What?"

Link shook his head.  "Nothing.  Just...would you like to sleep on the bed again?"

Rhett answered by dropping the blanket midair and making his way immediately to the opposite side of the bed, switching the light off on the way, before climbing under the covers and dropping his head on the pillow quickly.

"I didn't say you could use the blankets," Link gibed.

"Too late!" Rhett sighed, stretching broadly then falling motionless, eyes staring unfocusedly toward the television.  Link turned onto his side, knowing better than to try to wrap an arm around Rhett: he was a self-proclaimed anti-cuddler; the embrace of the afternoon's nap had been a fluke.  Still, overcome with the urge to touch him, Link brought his pillow close enough that, when he curled into a comfortable position, his forehead rested against Rhett's arm.  It was allowed, and they drifted into sleep that way.

 

Link awoke slowly, crawling into consciousness from what felt like a weeklong sleep.  He pulled the comforter around him and felt a light stirring from the other side of the bed.  Cracking one eye, he found Rhett leaning against the headboard and looking down at him, momentarily distracted from the TV. 

"Time is it?" Link asked. 

"Almost eleven."

"Whoa.  How did that happen?" he asked, noting that the room seemed too dark for the sun to have risen.

"Nature's lullaby," Rhett answered, pointing to the ceiling.  They listened quietly, and Link discerned a steady beat of raindrops falling onto the roof.  He craned his neck to look out the glass door just as a streak of lightning flashed over the ocean. 

"Oh, wow," he muttered, sinking back into his pillow. 

"News says this storm is supposed to last all day.  But tomorrow should be nice.  Cooler, even."

"Hmm.  So we don't get a Wednesday," Link said, pushing the blankets down to his waist, starting the process of forcing himself to get up.

"Well, there are still plenty of museums and shops we could check out," Rhett offered, sliding back down as he spoke, finishing his thought with a smooth wrap of his arm around Link's stomach.  "Or we could just...stay in."

Without missing a beat, Link pulled out of his grasp, rolling off the bed onto his feet and announcing, "I'm starving," shutting Rhett down with such efficiency that it made the rejected man laugh.

"So cold it burns," he groaned, hiding his face in Link's pillow. 

"Help me finish this," Link commanded, pulling the mixed fruit from the mini-fridge beneath the sideboard before returning to the bed and taking Rhett's place.  Doing as he was told, Rhett leaned against Link, helping himself to the most appealing looking pieces.  His restraint did not last long.

Link watched the quiet TV, a report on the island's aviary population, and failed to notice the hand moving toward his face until the tip of a strawberry brushed the corner of his mouth, which pulled up into an amused smirk. 

"Really?" The word dripped with incredulity. 

"Oh, really.  We're not pretending it's a joke anymore.  It's straight up cliché now.  Embrace it."

Link bit the strawberry out of his hand, defending himself as he chewed.  "I wasn't pretending, you know.  That night...it really was just a bit."

"Okay," Rhett replied, tone flat beyond the point of sincerity.  Link's eyebrows shot upward. 

"It was!  I've never...this isn't _really_ like, 'a long time coming' kind of thing."  He could sense the hole his words were digging, but they pressed on without him.  "There've been no sleepless nights, you know, wondering what Rhett is doing, thinking about, whatever.  You haven't _been on my mind_ , just...just so you know."

Rhett pulled his weight off Link's shoulder, sitting up straight.  "Stop flattering me," he said dryly, eyes distant. 

"Don't be like that," Link shot back, suddenly annoyed, but unsure why.  Now forced to consider his own feelings so quickly, he became agitated.  Sensing an imminent argument, his stomach turned.  He couldn't explain his thoughts, his take on the past two days, or his sudden comfort at lying so closely to his best friend.  Rhett had withdrawn, leaving him to flounder in his own head.  He turned to look into Rhett's face, and upon finding his features void of their signature light, he tried to think out loud, hoping to come to a mutually placating conclusion. 

"That's why this is so...intense, I think.  But also why it's so scary."

Rhett threw a glance his way, but returned his gaze out the door.

"It's weird and unsettling, but somehow also completely normal feeling, right?  It's like...like snapping in a puzzle piece that you didn't even know was missing.  It all makes sense now, but you thought it made it sense before.  Like clarity you didn't know you needed."

"You keep saying 'you.'"

"I. Me.  Not you?"

Rhett sighed.  "Maybe me.  A little.  But don't speak for me."

"Proverbial 'you.'  Better?  Or would you like to debate semantics right now?"

Rhett shrugged and nodded, accepting the correction. 

"Go ahead, feed me strawberries. I embrace the cliché," Link conceded.

"Maybe I don't want to now."

Link grabbed his hand and manipulated his fingers to grab a strawberry, working Rhett's arm to bring it to his mouth, dragging it across his lips with comically overblown seduction before flashing his sharp teeth to bite into it aggressively.  The corners of Rhett's mouth threatened a smile, but held fast.  Link knew his goal now, and pushed at Rhett's lips with a cube of cantaloupe until they parted just enough to pull the fruit inside.  He quickly replaced it with his finger, pushing inside Rhett's mouth, grazing a motionless tongue.  When Rhett wouldn't play along, he swirled his finger in circles, running along both cheeks in a gesture far more medical than romantic.  It took a combination of obscene noises and running his fingernail along the tops of Rhett's molars to finally cause the suddenly stoic man to break, eyes glittering with amusement.

"Sexy teeth picking.  So messed up," he laughed. 

Link internally congratulated himself for correcting the trajectory of a nearly ruined day, but his high faltered when Rhett's face grew more serious.

"I get what you're saying, and I won't try to tell you how you felt, but forgive me for thinking we need to pick a lane.  I hate to make it so black and white, but...you're all over the map, and I can't keep up.  Last night you said...what you said, and just now, you backpedalled."

"No, I didn't backpedal.  I just thought I should say...I don't know.  I don't know why I got so defensive," he explained, steeling himself for the words that followed.  "I liked the lane we were in.  I want to stay there..." He stopped, not allowing himself to finish the thought, _while we can._   "Is that okay?"

"Convince me."

 

Rhett's eyes had gone dark, sending a weak shiver down Link's spine before he moved to stretch languidly across the bed and Rhett's lap to reach for the remote and shut off the television.  He moved with purpose, holding the stretch in order to plant his lips on Rhett's.  The initial timidity was gone, each now on a mission to prove his enthusiasm to the other.  Link shifted his weight, maintaining contact as he slid his left leg over Rhett's right, straddling him against the headboard.  Mere inches separated them as he held himself up on his knees, enjoying the rare height advantage for the second time, holding Rhett's upturned chin in his palm, fingers wrapping back around his jaw, resting in his beard.  The larger man proved pliable, moving to meet Link's lips from whatever angle they approached.  Thin fingers wrapped around his wrists, guiding them to Link's sides, from where they slid downward, palming the bones of his hips before sliding around the only clothing he wore and coming to rest on his backside.  A gentle squeeze caused Link to smile against his face, breaking the kiss for an amused exhalation.

"Believe me yet?" Link asked quietly, close enough to inhale the response from Rhett's lips. 

"Almost."  It was a calculated answer.

Link arched an eyebrow and pulled the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth as he let his knees bend further, sinking fully onto Rhett's lap, pinning his hands between them as he ground his pelvis forward, back curving with the effort.  Weak against the friction, Rhett let his head fall back against the headboard; Link took fast advantage of the access to his neck, biting into it with an intensity that sapped the smirk from his face.  He could only groan against the teeth searching for his pulse and the hands unhurriedly sliding from his neck to his chest to his abdomen, making a temporary home at the narrowest point of his waist, managing to make him feel small and controlled, if only for a moment.  Link maneuvered backward, giving himself room to trace hieroglyphs into Rhett's chest with his tongue.

"How 'bout now?" he whispered into the expanse of skin beneath his cheek.

A long pause prefaced Rhett's answer.  It came out with a sigh.  "Almost."

"Don't you lie to me, now," Link warned, teeth closing delicately around a sensitive nipple.  The tip of his tongue drew lazy circles, and Rhett exhaled a rattled laugh, fingers digging more emphatically into the skin they held, nails scratching at the thin barrier of fabric. The smaller man bucked forward, giving Rhett room to move his hands, which quickly landed back on Link's waist, mirroring his own hold.  For a loaded second, they were at a stalemate, each at the mercy of the other's grip, waiting to see who would push or pull.  Rhett started to shift his weight forward, but stopped upon catching Link's brow flash into a furrow against his chest.  Link didn't notice the new intensity with which Rhett was watching him, forming and testing his own private hypotheses, but he did feel a sudden need to press Rhett into the mattress.  He acted on it, pulling pillows out of the way and wordlessly directing the long body to lie across the bed, feet nearly touching the nightstand.  He separated Rhett's knees, placing his own in between and sitting back on his heels.  It was then that he caught Rhett staring with a grin.

"What?" Link asked, narrowing his eyes, swallowing down a flare of insecurity.

Rhett shook his head innocently, hands resting on Link's bent knees.  "You look good up there.  Natural."  When Link didn't respond, he continued.  "It's not a bad thing.  You're gettin' me all figured out."  He loosely wrapped his legs around Link's waist.

"...but?"

His legs tightened, forcing Link down, bringing them chest to chest.  "But I'm figuring you out, too."  His eyes glittered with mischief and unspoken knowledge.  It made Link too nervous to hold his gaze; he sought respite in a heavy kiss.  Moving slowly, Rhett tried to push Link's shoulder, to roll their tangled bodies, to exchange positions, but Link would not be guided.  His resistance inspired a chuckle from Rhett, who gave up with another knowing smile.  His efforts were forgotten the second Link's fingers slipped beneath his waistband.  They hooked over the elastic and pulled, prompting Rhett to raise his hips so that they could slide easily down his legs.  He eyed Link's underwear, but kept his hands to himself.

A deep roll of thunder accompanied the tongue that flattened against his shaft, and Rhett's brows knitted.  The night had done nothing to detract from Link's enthusiasm, and with the sound of water railing against the roof, he wrapped his lips around Rhett, working to transport him back to the grotto, back to the fantastical vision of the waterfall, the mist on their skin, the heat between his legs.  To hear the groans emanating from Rhett's throat, it seemed to be working.  He slipped his left arm beneath Rhett's waist, in one second letting himself be held down, in the next, using this grip to pull Rhett further into his mouth.  His right hand cradled what his mouth could not reach, working through an intricate series of caresses, squeezes, and gentle tugs that caused Rhett to roll his hips.  Link grinned at the response; this time he was ready for it.  A breathy laugh caused him to look up at Rhett's face, making inquisitive eye contact as his right hand and glistening mouth changed places. 

"You look good down there, too," Rhett said, running his fingers through messy black hair and earning a moan that caused his head to fall back with the pleasure of the vibration.

With a quick upward glance, Link braced himself for resistance, then pulled his left hand out from beneath Rhett and toward himself, taking a brief pause and a firm squeeze of Rhett's backside, before letting it come to rest beneath his own chin.  At first, his fingertips simply rested at the crease of Rhett's leg, but they crept inward, slowly, carefully, until they found a small spread of unexplored skin.  Curiosity kept Link's gaze locked on Rhett's face as he bent his finger and dug his knuckle into the space he'd found.  While his eyes closed tighter, Rhett's body jerked under the indirect pressure on what he quickly realized was an underappreciated locale.

"Holy..." he trailed, sparking his own series of surprised laughs. 

Link grabbed Rhett's right hand and directed it to take over for his own, moving to lay the length of his own body against Rhett's left side.  He covered the side of Rhett's neck with wet kisses while his hand stretched down between his legs, continuing to press deep into the hot skin, inspiring a telltale tension in his body.  Link pressed himself against the side of Rhett's hip, the contact drawing forth a sigh of his own.  It made Rhett realize how quiet Link had been, and he stole a quick look down at his face.  The bright blue eyes had fallen closed as Link tried to focus on both pleasing Rhett and enjoying himself.  Rhett slid his left hand down Link's stomach, but was quickly rerouted as Link grabbed it and pulled it up to his face, wrapping his lips around the first two fingers, tongue sliding obscenely between them.  Rhett's breath hitched: the feel of it was intense, but the sight alone could have finished him.

"Oh, God...Link...I'm gonna..."

He had barely breathed the words before Link was over him again, replacing Rhett's hand with his own again, looking darkly up his long body, the question burning in his eyes.

"Believe me now?"

He struck as many nerves as he could manage, lowering his mouth onto Rhett, the tip of his tongue pressing against the bottom of the head, his right hand pumping almost violently while his left thumb pushed hard into his perineum, all in the name of an answer.  He got it.

"Yes," Rhett breathed, then repeated with more force, voice finally raising out of his chest.  "Yeah...yeah, Link.  Yeah!" he cried, hands twisting in the sheets at his sides. 

Link held fast, keeping his head down as his mouth was filled, holding his breath against the urge to cough, eyes watering with effort and the desire to let Rhett ride the full high before pulling away.  The room went silent as Rhett held his own breath, teeth bared, hips frozen in a lifted position, eyes squeezed tight in strained euphoria. 

When finally he opened them again, Link was pushing himself off the bed, jaw lax but lips closed.  Rhett caught his eye and raised his brow in an expression of impressed admiration.  Link arched an eyebrow quickly before leaving his line of sight for the bathroom.  He'd closed the door behind him, but Rhett could still hear the sounds of water running and Link spitting repeatedly into the sink.  He couldn't help but laugh.

Minutes later, Link returned, lips full and flushed, turned upward with pride and amusement.  Rhett had not moved, so he crawled onto the bed next to him, falling onto his back with a dramatic exhale.

"Really...impressive work..." Rhett sighed, peeking down at Link, who widened his eyes playfully.

"Really?  Gosh, I've never done that before..."

Rhett laughed, appreciating the reference.  He rolled onto his side, seeking out eye contact that had become suddenly hard to come by.  Link sensed the smile pulling at Rhett's lips.

"What?" he asked, closing his eyes, settling further into his relaxed position.

"Earlier...I wasn't just saying that, Neal.  I really do have you figured out."

"Hmm," Link responded, trying to shut down the conversation. 

"You're still fighting it," Rhett explained, voice barely above a whisper.  Link remained still and silent.  "You're afraid to lean in."

A blue eye cracked open.  "Need I remind you what I just did to you?  I can, you know.  In vivid detail, if you'd like."

Rhett grinned, enjoying his moment of superiority.  "And what, in vivid detail, did you let me do to you?"

"Excuse me?"

"There's a big difference, isn't there?  It's one thing to serve, to do what you've done.  It's something else entirely to lie back and let it happen to you."

Link rolled onto his side, facing away from Rhett, but holding his arm against his chest, kissing his knuckles dismissively.  "One of your theories.  Tell me about it later."

"Oh, I will.  I have you in here all day."


	7. Countries

The weather moved in waves, alternating a steady pour with a fine mist, thunder rolling ambivalently throughout, sometimes directly overhead, sometimes miles away.  The resort had gone quiet save for the few stray bodies moving quickly between buildings, running to and from the spa, hugging walls toward the restaurants.  Employees traveled with white umbrellas, delivering room service to the numbered guests who had chosen to ride out the storm from within their bungalows.  

A few stray raindrops were still drying on two silver cloches as Link leaned against the headboard, eyeing a hand of cards that he knew would cement his lead in a game he rarely won.  He picked at the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for his opponent's move.

"You gonna play something, or is this it?" he asked, trying to read Rhett's expression.  An intricate display of melds lay displayed on the comforter between them, each under close scrutiny as Rhett's focus moved between them.

"You thirsty?" he finally asked, a deviant glimmer in his eyes.

Link's shoulders fell.  "Are you kidding me?"

"How 'bout some..."  Rhett dropped his entire hand, dividing it into new melds and adding to the existing ones, grinning as he did so.  "...Gin."

Link tossed his own hand into the middle, rolling his eyes.  "Why do I keep playing this?  Have I ever even won?"

"Surely once," Rhett gloated, collecting the thrown cards.  "Maybe when we were in Salt Lake.  Yeah.  You beat me in Utah.  I think I know your problem, though," he said, nodding at Link's lost hand.

"Of course you do."

"Would you like to hear it?"

Link arched an eyebrow and sighed.  "Enlighten me."

"Your plans are too grand.  You try to gather these huge plays and miss out on all the little ones you could make along the way. You wait for a sledgehammer where a steady chisel would do."

"A sledgehammer is much more satisfying."

"You ain't wrong," Rhett agreed, stretching onto his back and shuffling the deck on his stomach.  He held up the top card, the four of diamonds.

"Higher," Link said reflexively, looking out at the rippling ocean water.  A jack of spades raised in his periphery.  "Lower.  Would you move to a place like this?  I mean, if we weren't anchored like we are.  You know, same person, different life.  Would you want to live in the tropics?"

"I don't know.  Where do you go for vacation?  Wouldn't it lose its allure after a while?  Ten of hearts.  Close call."

"Lower.  I guess you go to the mountains.  Ski resorts, off-roading, that kind of thing."

"This isn't the reality of living here.  You'd still have to get up in the morning and go to work somewhere.  You'd still have to think about money, take care of a house.  So it's warm and sunny most of the time.  I have that now."

Seven of clubs.

"True.  I guess it's not that different.  Higher.  No, lower."

"And if you're thinking of throwing yourself into some different culture, there's not much mystique to that anymore, either.  We may have stayed in the same country, but try to find a bigger difference between where we came from and where we ended up.  So, yes, I _could_ do it, but I wouldn't go by myself."

"That's the question.  No families, no career that ties you down.  You can go anywhere."

"I'm not going by myself," Rhett repeated.  "Eight of hearts; that's one."

"Lower."

"Honestly, I don't know that I'd have gone to L.A. alone.  I mean, for the obvious reasons, but in some other life, I don't see myself packing up and hauling off to the other side of the country.  Queen of clubs.  Losin' your touch."

"Damn.  Good thing I was there, then," Link teased, calling the next card by pointing down.

"You joke, but it's true." He rolled onto his side to face Link, peeling a nine of spades off the deck.  "Usually, you know, I'm about a step behind you.  You're kind of my crash dummy."

"That's nice.  Lower."

Rhett chuckled at his own phrasing.  "I mean, you've always been the bolder one.  If you don't die doing it, I'm willing to try.  You just let me get away with making it look the other way around.  I think you've known this for a while now.  And," he continued, shaking his head as he held up the seven of diamonds, "I think you like it that way."

Link could hear it in his voice: this was only the beginning of a carefully considered analysis.  He inhaled deeply, preparing himself for the colorful theories that were about to be shared.  He pointed upward, grinning as Rhett showed an eight.  The little victory concealed the uneasy swell in his stomach.  He breathed through it, focusing on keeping an even expression as he spoke.

"Go ahead.  You're proud of this one, I can tell.  Lay it on me.  Lower."

Rhett smiled.  "You like control.  We all do to some extent, but you... _really_ need it."

"This isn't new.  But when has it led us astray?" he asked quickly, failing to recognize his own attempt to manipulate the conversation.  Rhett was unfazed.

"Not very often.  But as much as you're the risk taker, you know I'm the safety net.  I'm the one with my feet on the ground, in reality, usually with a finger on the 'call' button to 9-1-1.  And this arrangement works really well for us, for you. Until I don't notice when –to use your example of drowning—the dummy gets thrown into uncharted waters and I go leaping after."

"These metaphors..."

"Speaking of..." Rhett held up the king of hearts.  The game was over.  "Now you're down in it, and there is no lifeline.  You could just lie back and float; the tide would take you in.  But you don't.  You fight it, treading water, looking for whatever you can regulate to make yourself feel better.  The power is arbitrary at this point, but good God, are you unwilling to let it go."

"Mmhmm..." Link crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes on Rhett as he moved to place the deck on the nightstand.  Instead of settling back into his place at the foot of the bed, he sat at the edge closest to Link, his knee underneath him as he turned to face him head on.  The proximity sent a buzz through Link's muscles.  It proved a challenge to sit still when he could so keenly sense what was coming.  His fingers dug hard into his biceps.

"The craziest part is that you think you're doing the 'right' thing," Rhett continued, sliding Link's glasses off of his face.  Link couldn't help but notice how smoothly he could remove them.  His mind lingered on the thought and had to race to catch up when he realized Rhett was still speaking, his voice growing quiet as he leaned in close enough for his breath to warm Link's neck.

"To let go and enjoy the ride...It's selfish and indulgent, which is not you.  But it also makes you a little powerless..." He began punctuating his phrases with soft kisses along Link's tense shoulders, hands settling on either side of his hips, framing him.  "It means risking passivity, which is _really_ not you."  He pushed forward, chancing a light kiss on the corner of Link's lips then speaking against his skin. "You're afraid of losing control."  Link fought harder to remain stoic, eyes staring unseeingly toward the ocean as Rhett moved above him, settling over him with surprising ease.  With a long leg on either side of his lap, the smaller man recognized that he'd been caged.  His breathing grew shallow as he tried to focus on the words being spilled over the crook of his neck, pooling in the collar of his shirt. 

"I mean, look what's happened after one night of a few too many drinks.  How much farther out to sea can you drift, right?  Scary thought.  Keeps you from loosening that tight grip you have on the world around you."  At his sides, long fingers wrapped around Link's wrists with a pressure that sent a message.  "The people who can be around you, what they can wear around you, what they can say to you, _do_ to you.  It's all under your thumb."

A part of Link wanted to roll his eyes, to scoff and shut down this now one-sided conversation.  In a fleeting moment, he recognized this part of himself as the same one that chided Rhett for undressing in front of him, squirmed away from playful touches, and made every effort to announce and maintain that they were nothing ever, and never would be, more than good friends.  This defense was strong and hard, developed early in their youth and cured over the years into an impenetrable armor that kept Rhett, and everything dangerously physically and charismatically magnetic about him, at a safe and manageable distance.  In thirty years, he'd thought that no passing touches, bouts of roughhousing, or lingering glances had pierced this protection. If anything were to crack it, he certainly never expected to be mere words, but the truth was unavoidable: the more Rhett spoke, the more light began to shine through, revealing tens, hundreds, thousands of points of weakness in the armor. 

"You've made a country of yourself.  But..." 

Link's body tried to surrender, shuddering against the truth that burned through him.  Rhett ignored the forfeit for an eternity, raising himself off of Link's chest, unfurling his spine to loom over him.  He released his hold on trembling wrists in order to wrap his fingers around the back of Link's neck, his thumbs pressing lightly up his cheeks.  The hold was possessive, dominant, and dangerous.  It forced Link to look up into his face, which he found warm and adoring, looking back at him with the sympathy of an elder watching a child learn a difficult lesson. 

"...I've been planting flags on you for years."

Link did not reply; he'd lost his voice somewhere deep in his belly, where flames held it down and scorched it, drying out his throat in the process.  And Rhett's kiss was more than a drink of water.  It poured over and into him, eroding what little hold he had on their new dynamic.  His mouth opened under the incursion of Rhett's tongue, harsh and confident and thrilling.  While the words had weakened him, the weight of Rhett told Link all that he needed to know: there was nothing he could give of himself to retake the reins.  No amount of loaded glances, licked lips, or bared teeth could help him win this match, and as he looked up at Rhett, a deafening thunder cracked the atmosphere outside.  This tower of a man had Mother Nature on his side, and Link exhaled, eyes closing with the warm realization that he was ready to lose.

Where Link had called upon adrenaline to help him maneuver Rhett's body beneath the waterfall, Rhett needed no such assistance.  His grip was firm but gentle on Link's shoulders as he guided him onto his back, again lying sideways on the bed.  Legs still straddling him, Rhett raised himself up in order to slide Link's body upward, ensuring that his legs lay comfortably supported and unbound by the blankets.  With large hands palming either side of his ribcage, Link suffered a chill down his spine as he instantly felt small under Rhett's touch.    The hands slid upward in sync with the rest of Rhett's body, wrapping around the back of his neck and cradling the back of his head as dry lips sank heavily into his own.  Link mirrored the gesture, first with his fingers at the back of Rhett's neck, then with his arms wrapping fully in their place, pulling him close and holding tight.  It was allowed for a single heated moment, but Rhett was quick to remind Link of his strength and used his position to push Link's hands over his head, crossing his wrists and pinning them in place with his left hand.  His right traveled lazily down Link's left side, sliding easily over the cotton of his clothing, grazing his ribs, his waist, his hip, and his thigh, until it crept back upward, landing heavily at its final destination.  Link's mouth fell open, an easy target for the teeth that sank into his lower lip.  He played into the attack, hips rolling upward, pushing himself harder against Rhett's hand.  They each groaned into the pressure, Link in pleasure, Rhett in amusement.

"There he is..." Rhett whispered against Link's mouth.

Link smiled, reeling from the heat of Rhett's hand, and slipped his hands out of their restraint.  They'd made it to the bottom of his shirt by the time Rhett caught them, forcing them upward again with a warning look. 

"You're not working right now."

"Undress me."

The corner of Rhett's lips curled upward at the command.  He released the wrists under his palm, eyeing them intently until they relaxed fully against the mattress.  Link chewed his bottom lip as warm palms slid up his sides, agonizingly slow, dragging the thin fabric of his shirt with them.  His muscles tensed under the tickle of Rhett's beard as soft kisses peppered the newly revealed skin. 

"I don't get tired of seeing this," Rhett said to no one, peeling the shirt up and over Link's arms, tossing it onto the floor.  Link watched his face as he moved over him, breath catching in his throat when Rhett looked back, a hint of something solemn in his features.  Before Link could put his finger on the expression, his own eyes fluttered closed, hands tugging at the waistband of his shorts and underwear at the same time.  The fan spun slowly overhead, breathing across what skin Rhett's body didn't cover, leaving him feeling every bit of his exposure. 

In reversed roles, Link had nibbled, licked, and teased, testing Rhett's patience then rewarding him for it.  That patience was thin now: he took Link in his right hand and guided him directly into his mouth, earning a quiet _Oh God_ in return.  Link's mouth twitched into a grin that, even from the neck up, gave him away.  The obscenity was painted all over his face.

The grin flashed into a snarl as Rhett drug his teeth gently up his shaft.  He laughed at Link's senseless utterance, continuing his work with his right hand while his left worked to push Link's legs apart.  No longer straddling Link, Rhett sank onto his stomach, making himself at home between raised knees.  His hand swept up Link's side and back down his waist before settling at the back of his thigh, fingertips kneading fair and sensitive skin as he re-enveloped Link in the heat of his mouth. 

Lying still was no small feat, and as Link glanced down to catch sight of himself disappearing into Rhett's mouth, he realized what had driven Rhett to thrust so deeply into his own throat.  He must have twitched at the thought, sending it to Rhett, who opened his eyes to look back up at him, a glimmer of mischief replacing the gravity that had been caught in his gaze.  The look made a promise: _Just wait._

Lazing indoors had given Rhett no cause to style his hair, and it felt markedly softer between Link's fingers as they glided across his scalp, ignoring the disapproving look he received in return, thoughtlessly searching for something to keep him tethered to his senses.  But with every dip of Rhett's head, his grip on them loosened.  More times than he could count, he'd lost his breath at the mixed sensation of touching the back of Rhett's throat and coarse hair grazing his sac.  He'd begun to sweat, fingers playing with the idea of gripping a fistful of Rhett's hair while his hips rocked subtly.  Rhett pulled away to catch his own breath, allowing a bead of saliva to roll down Link's length.  He watched, transfixed, as it trailed across his seam, disappearing below and causing Link bite his own lip again, knees instinctively spreading wider.  His fingers stretched for Rhett's face, which ducked out of reach, teeth nipping at his thigh as he wrapped his arms around Link's legs. 

"You want to use those hands so bad," Rhett began, voice gravelly.  Link gasped as he was dragged to the edge of the bed and made to stand, feet unsteady on the cool floor.  Rhett knelt in front of him, peeling off his own shirt and sitting back on his heels to position himself directly across from Link's pelvis, eyes flickering in anticipation.  His brow arched as he gave his order:

"Use 'em."

Link looked down into his face intently, searching for the direction he was meant to take in this position.  Clarity came in the form of two fingers waving him in, a nonverbal _Come on, Neal_.  He stepped forward, fingers winding gently into Rhett's hair and pulling him forward, testing the offer.  Rhett opened his mouth, and Link pushed into it, sighing with the sensation.  He quickly caught on to the game when Rhett didn't move back, and he nearly laughed with his new power.  His movements were cautious and gentle, fingers barely holding on to Rhett's hair as he slid between his lips.  A large hand left his hip and covered his own at the back of Rhett's head, encouraging his fingers to hold tighter, push farther, use more force.  He inhaled deeply, letting the breath steel him against a rejection that never came.  Instead, a moan vibrated through him as his grip tightened on its own, pulling Rhett toward him, and simultaneously meeting him halfway, causing his nose to come down on Link's skin.  Rhett gagged, but did not pull away.  Instead, he held his breath, repeating the deep connection several times more before resisting Link's force just enough to inhale again. 

For the briefest moment, Link pondered whether he was losing his mind.  He knew of the storm raging over the ocean, knew the drenched deck furniture, knew the room itself, but not the people in it.  He caught his reflection in the dresser mirror across the room, and could only see that someone who looked very like himself was driving repeatedly into the eager mouth of someone who looked very like Rhett.  Rhett, who knew everything, who always had a plan, who always offered the safety net of reality.  Rhett, who was ever the protector, who had picked him up and tossed him over a cliff.  Now in freefall, he hardly recognized himself.  This man, with a bicep covered in black ink, with the heat of the sun still lingering in his skin, was animalistic, volatile, thinking, wanting, and doing filthy things, all the while idly wondering just how far he could push or be pushed. 

His hands moved again of their own accord, meeting Rhett's shoulders and pushing him back, forcing him to sit against the bed, his head leaning back against the mattress, lips still parted and eyes glittering with both excitement and the tears that resulted from straining his throat.  Link placed his feet on either side of Rhett's legs and guided himself back into his mouth, resting his weight on his palms, now placed on top of the bed.  His hips took over, rocking forward, seeking as much contact as possible.  Rhett grunted beneath him, spurring him on until his legs began to tremble, release only a few seconds away.  Already too familiar with his body, Rhett turned his head away, depriving Link of his climax.  He whined at the loss, not caring how pathetic he sounded as Rhett, in a single smooth motion, slid out from under him, turned him over onto his back, and pressed him back onto the mattress.  Link's eyes still closed in self pity, he did not see Rhett shove his knees apart, nor the determination on his face as he filled his right palm with saliva and pressed it into the only space between his legs left untouched.  His lips parted at the slick heat of the touch, allowing unexpected entrance to the index finger of Rhett's left hand.  As he held it between his teeth and sucked, he rolled his hips, demanding friction, until the hand slipped away from his mouth and guided Link's right downward.  He hummed into the touch of his own hand, then outwardly groaned as a pointed tongue prodded at his perineum.  Clear blue eyes shot open as the tongue slipped lower, circling him gently before slowly easing in. 

Ever vigilant of his own sharp tongue, it only seemed appropriate that in this moment of other-selfness, profanities poured from Link's lips and his eyes rolled back.  The sound of it only fueled Rhett's enthusiasm, and Link dissolved further as another heavy drop pooled on him, slickening the intrusion of a single digit that froze him in place.  He whimpered at the touch and, without moving his hand, Rhett lay over his right side, covering as much of his body as he could while keeping his own arm in place.  He planted heavy kisses of encouragement on Link's neck, breathing words both beautiful and obscene into his skin.  Half of them he didn't hear, but what he caught sent a shiver through him, and helped him to relax around Rhett's finger.

"Look at you," Rhett murmured. "So pretty when you fall apart.  I knew you would be."

When it curled, the finger set Link alight.  He cried out, stroking himself with renewed intensity, pushing against Rhett's hand in search of the same high, trembling against the words creeping in over the sound of his own desperate breathing.

"Go for it, Link," Rhett whispered hoarsely, now grinding himself against his hip.  "Come on, baby."

The name sliced through the fog, ricocheting around his head as his climax took him, waves crashing through his body, choking him into silence as a familiar warmth spread across his stomach while Rhett pressed into him over and over, igniting stars in his vision. 

His breath returned in gasps, muscles falling into a forced state of relaxation.  Whatever chemicals had taken him over had not yet dissipated though, and he reached between Rhett's legs to palm him for only a second, simultaneously seeking out his lips.

"Let me feel it," he growled, pulling Rhett fully over him.  He relaxed, breathing deeply as Rhett pumped himself with a new urgency.  Link smiled lazily, running his palm across his own stomach before reaching for Rhett's length, covering it with his own personal lubricant.  Rhett groaned into the touch, and soon found himself leaning over Link, their foreheads pressed together as he rode out his own orgasm, covering Link's stomach in the process.  The smaller man smiled against the sensation, pulling Rhett's lips into his own, their teeth clashing before their tongues met.

Rhett rolled off of him, and they stared into the ceiling, chests heaving in near unison.  Link wanted to ride the high; he desperately longed to enjoy a thoughtless bliss so often the result of such a powerful moment.  But he was caught, snagged on the words that had cracked him in the first place.  They played on repeat in his head, the only soundtrack to the recurring sight of uncharacteristic sincerity in Rhett's face.  An expression that said something.  That screamed something.  But he wasn't listening then, and wasn't sure he wanted to now.  As they panted themselves back into reality, their mouths were frozen into soft grins.  Underneath, though, Link felt a twinge in his chest that warned too late of crossing a line.  This, whatever it was, had rushed at a breakneck speed beyond the realm of _having fun._


	8. Messages

Wednesday dissolved in a blur of catnaps and long showers, the pair grazing on snacks rather than disturbing the fragile balance of their room by venturing out or inviting anyone else in.  A familiar barrier was notably absent as Link found them leaning into one another at every opportunity, collecting as many touches as possible where once they were avoided at great costs.  He even woke in the middle of the night to find his arm wrapped around Rhett's stomach, Rhett's hand resting atop his own. 

Thursday arrived quietly, waking Rhett with a sunbeam landing directly over his eyes.  They opened to a sight that made him smile: Link had curled into his side, black hair pressing softly into his chest as Link's rose and fell in a mesmerizing steady rhythm.  In his heavy sleep, Link did not feel the kiss placed gently in his hair.

 

* * *

 

"It's a whole day thing.  One adventure to the next, all back to back.  Jet skis, feeding rays, ATV tour."  Rhett's face glowed with excitement, smiling into a glass coffee cup.

"Oh," Link remarked quietly, nodding at the packed itinerary.  On their way to an outdoor cafe at the far end of the resort, Rhett had stopped by the concierge to ask about the best places for sightseeing.  Fifteen minutes later, he'd walked away with their entire day scheduled.

"You're gonna hate it," Rhett said, eyebrow arching in jest.  Link smirked and rolled his eyes. 

Within the hour, they were straddling a single jet ski, the last to join a full tour group speeding down the coast toward a narrow inlet that disappeared into the forest.  Allowing Rhett to drive first, Link sat on the back of the vehicle, hands tightly gripping the seat beneath him.  His thighs pressed into Rhett's hips for balance, tightening with every sharp turn the jet ski made.  In these moments, he could see the side of Rhett's face as he leaned into the turns, and realized that he never stopped grinning.

They rode for twenty minutes, following a local tour guide at a distance, directed the pointing fingers of their fellow tourists to spot bright birds or exotic flowers among the flora growing above their route to a secluded lagoon.  Upon reaching their destination, they abandoned their watercraft, tying it to a small dock at the end of the crystal blue lagoon.  Under their guide's direction, they found themselves chest deep in the water, only half listening to his description of the wildlife in the region, which included the dark animals approaching them in the water. 

"Do these things have teeth?" Link asked quietly, peering intently down at the small sharks nearly brushing against his legs.  Rhett chuckled.

"I think so, buddy.  They gotta eat."

"And how interested are they in eating people?"

"He's probably telling you," Rhett replied, tuning Link into the instructions for feeding the stingrays approaching behind the sharks.  The guidance was markedly brief, and the guide was soon handing out bits of fish from a plastic bag.  Rhett took a handful; Link declined the offer.

"'Just keep your palm flat,'" Link repeated after the guide, watching Rhett dip his hand under the water, a large black ray approaching them.  "Literally no other help.  What about when they take your finger with them?  What's the procedure for retrieving lost digits?  'Don't bleed too much; you'll send 'em into a frenzy.'"

Rhett shook his head and instinctively stepped forward, allowing the smaller man to watch the ray slide over his palm, but placing some distance between it and Link.  As it crossed over his outstretched hand, he broke into a giddy laughter. 

"That's amazing!  It's so smooth!  It just vacuumed it up! Come on, you have to at least touch one," he cried, stepping back and guiding a smaller stingray toward them with another piece of bait.

Link reached forward, letting his hand slide over the back of the animal.  "I've pet stingrays before, you know."

"Yeah, but in their natural habitat?  These are wild ones, man!"

"So wild that they happily approached a group of humans, expecting food."

"Don't ruin this for me," Rhett shot back, eyes wide as he grazed the back of a shark.  "Just pet the sea creatures."

Link laughed at the command, tentatively reaching for a shark and letting it slip across his fingertips. 

"These things could easily maim you," he postulated, reaching for another.  "I mean, they could do some serious damage if they wanted to."

"And yet here we are," Rhett replied, feeding another ray, "putting our faith in the notion that we just might be okay."

"Here we are," Link repeated, eyes following a particularly large stingray.

When he ran out of fish, Rhett moved away from the group, finding a private space deep enough for him to submerge all but the tops of his shoulders.  Link followed, treading water despite the security of his lifejacket.

As he looked up at the lush greenery framing the lagoon, Rhett shook his head, lips pulled into a small smile.

"No, I would not live here.  I would hate to think of being desensitized to this."

Link followed his gaze, feeling small in the clear water at the bottom of the forest that raised around them.

"You run the risk of looking at this every day and _not_ thinking it's incredible.  What a crime."

Link was just beginning to nod in agreement when long arms wrapped around his stomach from behind.  He was pulled back, legs drifting out in front of him as his back connected with Rhett's chest, a wet beard nuzzling into the space between Link's vest and his neck.  Link could only laugh into the embrace, resting his arms atop Rhett's, holding the backs of his hands, and letting himself float.

Too soon, the tour was on again, a small fleet of jet skis speeding away from the lagoon with the two men bringing up the rear.  Link drove, allowing Rhett to crane his neck and watch the hidden pool disappear as they approached the ocean.  From the back, he chose not to hold onto the seat, but rather, to continue his embrace of Link, arms wound around his stomach in gesture of both affection and warning that, should his driver pull any stunts, he would not go down alone.

 

* * *

 

As if making up for lost time, the sun blazed over the island, inspiring a sheen over Link's skin as he again found himself at the back of a shared vehicle.  This time, they were zipping over a dirt trail leading deep into the island, laughing as they splashed through shallow rivers of the valley leading toward a massive mountain.  The ocean had long since evaporated off of them, but their sleeveless shirts and board shorts couldn't seem to stay dry.

The guide's voice played in headsets connected to their helmets, explaining the geographical history of the region, pointing out various points of interest along the way.  Early into the drive, Rhett reached into his helmet to switch the headset off. 

"How are you going to know what you're looking at?" Link asked, leaning in close to the back of Rhett's neck in order to be heard.

"You're going to tell me.  I'd rather hear it from you, not this crackling speaker."

Link laughed, but quickly went quiet, listening to his own headset.  He slid forward in the seat, pressing fully into Rhett's back.

"This is Opunohu Valley.  There are still remains of temples in the ground, from where the Maohi came to pray."

"That's us!" Rhett called back. "The woman in the market said we're like them.  In our par...ree?"

"Pareo," Link laughed.  "This area is known for...I feel like you could've given this tour.  He says this area is known for its banyan trees."

Rhett nodded proudly, leaning his head to the side to listen as they began climbing a mountain trail.

"Over two hundred shrines have been found in the Valley.  These were places of worship...but also where human sacrifices were made to their war god?  Wow.  Okay."

"Fun!" Rhett replied, eyes scanning the dense forest floor for any signs of ruins.

"So, sacrifice 'em at the temple and throw 'em in a tree?"

"Yeah, I don't know," Rhett admitted, shaking his head.  "I'm not sure what the requirements were to be put into a tree."

"This is a dormant volcano we're going up.  Mount Tohi...Tohivea.  There's a restaurant with a lookout way up there.  Guess what it's called."

"Hard Rock Cafe?"

Link slapped Rhett's shoulder.  "Ha.  The Belvedere."

Rhett laughed, nodding in appreciation.

From that point, the ascent was quiet, Link sharing his intake of information selectively, sparing Rhett of less colorful details.  The mountain enveloped them in its foliage, thick trees stretching toward the sky on both sides of the thin road.  Rhett had adjusted his posture for the second time, trying to stretch his back, as they came upon the promised clearing hundreds of feet above sea level. 

Happy to walk again, they approached a large brick building that projected a balcony far out over the side of the mountain.  Rhett pulled his phone out quickly, snapping a dozen pictures of the scenic overlook as the rest of their group dispersed toward the restaurant. 

"Stand by the sign," Rhett directed, pointing Link toward a stone with _Belvedere_ carved delicately into its side.

"We're idiots," Link said, moving toward the rock.

"Yes, we are.  You got me in front of that hotel New York though, so we'll add it to the collection. Smile."

He didn't.  Instead, Link's head tilted to the side as a hand tapped Rhett's shoulder.

"Want one with both of you?" a man's voice asked.  Rhett turned and looked down upon an old acquaintance: the man he'd seen at their resort's pool, the man who had bought Link's drink that same night. 

"Sure, thanks!" he answered lightly, handing over his phone and quickly stepping up beside Link.  He wrapped his arm around Link's shoulders and smiled.  After snapping a single shot, the man grinned and shook his head.

"You can do better than that.  Come on, now.  Give me something worth photographing, here." His voice was playful, though his intent was obvious: he was feeling them out.

Link felt Rhett laugh before he found his chin turned upward and their lips pressed together.  

"There we go!" the man cheered, celebrating the gesture, then handing over the phone and disappearing into the restaurant with a friendly smile.  Even in his absence, Link felt frozen.  Rhett noticed, and peered warmly into his face.

"What are the odds?  Your buddy is on our tour!"

"That was a little...public," Link said lowly. 

Rhett shook it off.  "Oh, come on.  Don't give yourself so much credit.  I find it highly unlikely anybody here recognizes us.  You're no Brad Pitt."

"Hey, now," Link objected, rolling his shoulders against the tension that had arisen in them.  Rhett guided him toward the balcony, laughing to himself.

"More of an Angelina."

"Oh, come on."

 

 

Over lunch on the broad deck, they enjoyed the view of the island's other mountains, deep valleys and rivers crossing in abstract patterns throughout.  On their second round of iced teas, Rhett left to seek out the bathroom and explore the restaurant's interior.  Link leaned back in his chair, eyes lazily drifting over the landscape below.  Transfixed by the scenery, he failed to hear light footsteps approach.  His head only turned at the sound of a glass touching down on the table in front of him.  The man from the resort sat at the edge of Rhett's chair.  Link straightened his back, silently grappling with an unexpected wave of possessiveness.  A bright pink daiquiri stood on the table before him.  The sight of it emboldened him, inspiring him to speak first.

"You are persistent, aren't you?"

"You didn't touch the other one, so I thought I'd try something else.  I also thought this coincidence was too big to ignore.  I'm Matt," he said, extending a hand over the table.  Link eyed it for a moment, then shook it coldly.

"Charles."

"Nice to officially meet you.  I hope you don't mind my stopping by.  I just appreciated seeing a familiar face."

"It's not that familiar, though, is it?" he asked, stomach fluttering until he heard an answer he liked.

"Well, I guess not.  And I guess we're staying at a pretty big place.  There's a good chance anyone else on this excursion is, too.  So, less of a coincidence, more of my just wanting to talk to you."

"Weren't you with someone?" Link asked, pushing the drink forward in a subtle rejection.

"That kid at the pool?  I didn't even know his name!" he answered, laughing at some unspoken memory, revealing an unnaturally bright smile as he ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "I'm alone on this trip.  A private little escape from work."

Link leaned forward, placing his left elbow on the tabletop and resting his chin in his hand.  He knew the binary power of the gesture: in one context, it spoke of deep interest; in this one, it screamed boredom.  It wasn't the body language that caused Matt's smile to falter.

"Well, I'll get out of your space, I guess.  I just wanted to say hello without making anything awkward between you and..." His voice trailed off, hand waving to finish the thought.  "That said, I don't know how much longer you're staying but..." His eyes raised, the artificial smile returning in full force as he looked over Link's head.  Elbows came down on the corners of Link's backrest and he leaned back just in time for two long forearms to wrap about his shoulders.  Matt's gaze flickered to Rhett's left hand as he straightened his back.  The silence was brief, but now on the empowered end of it, Link couldn't help but wonder how long he could drag it out.  Ultimately, he spoke first, his razor tongue sharper than before.

"This is Mike," he said.

"Matt," the man corrected, standing to extend a hand to Rhett, who shook it kindly, nodding his greeting.

"Right." Link's tone remained flat, and he reached for the daiquiri, handing it over his shoulder to Rhett.

"Is this strawberry?" Rhett asked Link, taking a long pull from the straw.  "Oh, man.  One of my favorites.  That's so nice of you," he said, kissing Link's temple.

"Matt's staying at our resort."

Rhett replied with a chipper tone, playing heavily into Link's game.  "Oh, wow.  What are the odds?  Hey, while we have you here, would you mind getting one more picture of us in front of this view?  It's incredible, isn't it?  Feels like you can see the whole island."  He dug out his phone and handed it over again.  Matt smiled, now stiff in the awkwardness of the encounter.

Link stood, pressing his back against the wooden railing with Rhett beside him.

Leaning into Link, Rhett continued, now in control of the conversation.  "You know, I liked that idea you had for our last shot, Mitch."

"Matt."

"Sorry.  Let me know when you're ready."

The phone raised and Matt uttered a terse, "'Kay."

With that, Rhett wrapped his right arm around Link's waist, the fingers of his left hand stretching across his jaw as he pulled him into a kiss much deeper than their last.  At first, Link wanted to laugh, but his comedic spirit was quickly overwhelmed by the intensity of the kiss.  It seemed to go on for hours, nearly making him forget their audience, until Rhett pulled away and turned back to retrieve his phone.

"Anyway, I'm sorry, I think I interrupted your conversation.  You were saying you didn't know long we were staying, but—?"

He shook his head, trying to brush off the offer he had been prepared to make.  "Oh, nothing.  There's a karaoke bar a few blocks down from the resort grounds.  I thought I might go back tonight.  It's a good time, if you're looking for something to do."

"Sounds great."  Link had mastered the spiritless comeback, and Rhett was grateful that he'd taken the cheerful persona so that his genuinely amused smile would not break his character.  Matt shrugged under the blank stare burning into him.

"Well, that's all.  Anyway, I'd better go order something before our tour takes off again, huh?  See you around."  With that, he took off toward the restaurant. 

"Thanks, Mark," Link called after him.

Rhett took his seat again and sucked down half the frozen drink before sliding it back to Link.

"That was mean.  Are we mean now?"

Link, it turned out, had also mastered the devilish smile.  "No, no.  Just sending a message."

He raised the daiquiri, and Rhett raised his tea, toasting what they both were pretending was only an act.

 

The time to their next meal passed quickly with them traveling back down the mountain, Link driving with Rhett's arms wrapped around him, the configuration becoming second nature.  With his hand free of the throttle, Rhett took several quick pictures along their journey, documenting the lush greenery and scenic views against which nothing back home could compare.  They followed their group all the way back to a beach near their resort, both independently noticing that a certain fellow traveler kept his distance. 

As the sun began its descent, Link was alone, heading toward the beginnings of a large fire on the beach.  Locals and travelers alike gathered on wooden beach chairs and large quilts, settling in for a multi-course meal of native Tahitian cuisine.  The feast was being hosted just beyond the tourism office, which Link had just exited with a thin packet of papers, and was now folding them to shove into his back pocket, lips fighting to smile during the whole trek to the beach. 

Rhett had paid for their entrance to the dinner and now sat in one of a pair of low beach chairs, feet dug into the sand before him as he watched a fire build several feet in front of him.  Upon spotting Link, he smiled and nodded to seat next to him, proud of his front-row find.

"So, you want to tell me what took forty five minutes in there?  I've been gettin' looks for keeping two chairs to myself," Rhett said, handing Link a clear bottle of beer that had been half-submerged in the sand next to his seat.

After a long drink, Link took a deep breath, eyes drawn to fire as if preparing to deliver big news.  "Well..." he paused, building anticipation before falling heavily against the back of his chair.  "No, I don't."

Rhett smiled, shaking his head.  "Fine, man.  We've all been there.  That salad at lunch didn't sit right?  Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of."

Link grinned and nodded, going along with the joke.  "It was horrible.  I think they called a hazmat team."

"Oh, man!" Rhett broke into a fit of laughter. 

Eventually, white dishes were passed around the guests, along with heavy cloth napkins.  Link noticed the lack of cutlery immediately, and thought back to the last time he'd washed his hands, grateful that it had, in fact, been in the tourism center.  After a brief description of the multiple dishes they would be serving, two women in long grass skirts and elaborate leis and crowns began uncovering a large oven that had been buried in the sand, and carefully pulling out various combinations of meat and vegetables, each wrapped in banana leaves.  Guests were handed entire leaf bundles, left to discover their contents for themselves.

The pair unfolded their leaves, Rhett revealing tender cuts of white fish, from which a light citrus aroma rose, while Link held a bundle of shrimp.  They looked around at the other guests and found that some had only handfuls of bright vegetables while some had small balls of biscuit-like pastry in their leaves.  While there was clearly enough of everything to go around, the ceremonial meal involved a necessary willingness to share with one's neighbors in order to try each dish. 

In no particular rush to eat, they were quick to extend their full leaves to the closest couple, who did not seem to speak English.  A careful exchange took place, resulting in a colorful combination of bite sized portions in each of their laps.  Rhett first bit into the bread, nodding emphatically as he chewed. 

"Oh, wow...It's so sweet!" he said, turning to Link, who was still planning his route through the meal.  The brunet had just picked up a cube of tuna when Rhett reached over to feed him a piece of the bread.  He laughed at Rhett's enthusiasm, happily taking the bite from his fingers and mimicking his dramatic nod of approval.  They teased and laughed at each other, but found themselves repeating the gesture, fingers eager to deliver bits of pleasure not attributed to the food alone. 

They were acts of purity, each meeting of hands to lips, motivated by nothing other than the desire to share of themselves, to have fun, to ensure they each had a full experience.  As the second course was explained and prepared, they sat back, chairs close enough for their knees to touch as they relaxed.  Where Link would normally have adjusted his posture to avoid the contact, he felt no such urge.  Instead, with all eyes watching the women near the fire, he chanced placing his palm face-up at the edge of his armrest, biting back a smile when Rhett's fingers slid easily between his own.  It seemed a silly sight, two grown men seeking out such small points of connection, but as his fingers closed over the back of Rhett's hand, it felt completely normal, completely necessary.  He stole a glance at Rhett to see if he felt the same, but after what he'd confessed the afternoon before, his sentiments seemed established. 

Which reminded Link.

The topic had been happily overlooked, the admission grouped in with all the filthy phrases that had poured over his body like honey from Rhett's lips.  For a man who claimed not to be a natural talker, he'd had a way with words.  And two of them stood out, dangerously sharp rocks among glassy stones: _for years._   And now, they felt appropriate in the moment.  Looking at their joined hands, it felt as if they'd been so smoothly entwined for years.  Novelty mixed with nostalgia each time Rhett had placed his lips on Link, tingeing a thrill of excitement with comfort and instant familiarity, as though they hadn't been doing this their whole lives, but they should have been.

He'd been compartmentalizing for two full days now, ignoring the whispers of protest in the back of his mind, overlooking the logistics of returning home with whatever had been built on the island.  But in the quiet moments between the courses, his eyes were drawn to Rhett's face as it beamed with his magnetic enthusiasm, and he could not help but wonder about the _massive conversation_ that Rhett claimed needed to happen.  He chewed his lip, considering just what might come out when they finally turned their focus outward and examine what they'd done.  The thought was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.  With departure thirty six hours away, it had to be coming.  He looked back toward the large fire, staring unblinkingly into the flames, willing himself away from the somber waves lapping at his heels.

"You okay?" Rhett asked, penetrating his focus.  Link shook off the daze and nodded, turning to face him and meeting an expression concern and adoration.  It amplified the clock ticking deep in his subconscious, and drove him to push himself forward and plant his lips over Rhett's.  The kiss deepened for a second before ending with mutual smiles.  Link lingered in Rhett's space, eyes half-closed as he looked into his face.

"What was that for?" Rhett asked quietly, tongue darting out to taste the hint of spice that Link had left on him.

"Don't know."

"Was a little... _public_ ," Rhett teased.

"Don't care."

"Good," he whispered, brushing his nose against Link's before picking up his beer and leaning back in his chair.  He winced as the seatback touched his shoulders, now red from their day in the sun. 

"There's a little drugstore off the lobby.  Let's stop on the way back and pick up some aloe.  I don't want us to be hurting tonight."

Rhett nodded, and from his periphery, Link thought he saw him lick his lips again.

"You want to stop at that karaoke place first?" Link asked, tone dripping with level sarcasm.

"Gosh, it's tempting.  I'd love another drink from your boyfriend."

Link sighed dramatically.  "To be honest, I don't think it's going to work between us.  He's a little clingy."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear.  It was fun while it lasted, and that's what matters.  To Mick," he toasted, holding up his beer.  Link raised his own.

"To Max."

 

 

 


	9. Confessional

Rhett had been sitting alone in the hot tub for twenty minutes, carefully propping his heated arms and shoulders out of the water.  This session had been more therapeutic than the last, warming and massaging away the soreness from the day's vigorous activity.  He'd lit the torches lining the deck's railing and sank into the water at Link's behest, the brunet having taken the detour to the lobby's shop by himself.

Link had found himself in a far-too-lengthy conversation with the clerk about the island's recent weather phenomenon before he could finally back out of the store, a friendly smile plastered on his face.  His fingers rotated the bottle of aloe in his hand as he walked, only stopping their movement once the door to his room closed behind him.  Without its lights, the interior was nearly black now that the sun had set.  The darkness gave him a clear and private view of Rhett as he leaned his head against his own shoulder, relaxing in the bubbling water. 

Having set the bottle on the sideboard, Link stood a few steps back from the glass door, simply watching the slow scene outside.  Eyes safely anchored to Rhett, he let his mind wander.  It returned, as it had done several times before, to the hazy memory of the wildly lit bar.  He questioned every detail of the place that he could recall, trying to pinpoint exactly what had magnetized them.  The process frustrated him: they'd visited plenty of bars before, traveled in each other's exclusive company before, drunk past the point of reason before.  There was no answer in the number of beers or the loud music.  Had there been, this evening's feelings would not have stricken him so deeply.  He would not be fighting the invasive thoughts of a quickly ending timeline.  He would not so deeply regret the words that Rhett had already seemed to forget. 

In watching the dim light of small flames dance across Rhett's closed eyes, Link realized with painful clarity that he had lied in denying the history of their attraction.  It had not been conjured from nothing; it had lain dormant, pressurizing beneath a life of college and careers and uprootings, dream-chasing, corporation-building, and family-raising.  It was fueled not by passionate affairs, but by inside jokes and late night carpools, shared visions and quiet encouragements in the faces of embarrassment, fear, and failure.  And it had been dangerously patient, growing stronger by the laugh, by the touch, by the fight and forgiveness, until the day that it could do the most damage, destroying defenses and altering the topography of the lives that had fed it.

Standing still left him vulnerable to a barrage of answers to questions he didn't want to ask, so he moved.  In the dark of the room, he picked up a t-shirt off the floor, folding it twice before packing it into his suitcase with other worn clothes.  He straightened the covers of the already-made bed, smoothing out every line from its surface.  He compacted the empty pastry box from earlier in the week, placing it in the small trash can near the door.  Moving to the bathroom, he organized the implements on the counter, pulled the shower opened curtain closed, righted unlevel towels on the rack.  But there were only so many things to touch, and too quickly he found himself standing at the foot of the bed again, looking out at Rhett, a thin current of adrenaline flowing through him.  It spiked as long limbs emerged slowly from the tub, and Rhett moved to the edge of the deck to drip dry, leaning on the railing to look down into the water below, unaware of the gaze prowling across his back.  Several silent minutes passed, a mystifying need building low in Link's stomach as he followed the lines of Rhett's body.  His craving came to him without words, a series of only images: teeth grazing a jaw, fingers splayed across shoulder blades, legs wrapped around a bare waist.  His racing imagination hardly distracted him; rather, it tied his attention even closer to Rhett, and as he finally turned around, so did Link.

 

"You back?" Rhett asked into the darkness, door sliding closed behind him.  Squinting into the room, he discovered the new tidiness and smirked.  "You are.  What took you so long?" he wondered, noting the single bottle of aloe placed on the table.

He was answered by only the sound of the shower starting.  His legs moved on their own, tentatively crossing the distance from the balcony to the bathroom, where, upon pressing open the unlatched door, he found the lights low, the dimmer on the light switch pushed almost completely down. 

His shorts came off silently, abandoned to the floor as he carefully pulled back the far end of the curtain.  Inside, Link stood with his face upturned into the water, a statue in a heavy rain.  Rhett slipped in behind him, sparking him to life with the touch of a hand on his waist.  Link's hand covered it, pulling Rhett's arm around his stomach, causing Rhett to bend into the embrace.  His beard touched down on Link's shoulder for an instant, causing Link to flinch away, realizing for the first time how tender his own skin was.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," Rhett whispered, quickly planting a dozen kisses in Link's wet hair, pulling him into a tighter hold.  Link smiled, turning his face out of the spray. 

"I'm okay." 

"You left me by myself out there," Rhett said, keeping one arm around Link as he reached for the bottle of shampoo and squeezed it into his palm.  He stepped back, taking Link with him out of the water, slipping the bottle into his hand as he turned him around. 

"Just giving you some alone time," Link explained, eyes glued closed as long fingers ran through his hair and began massaging his scalp. 

"I didn't want it," Rhett said, rubbing circles into Link's temples and earning a groan in response. 

"Oh," was Link's only response, his attention focused exclusively on the sensation of Rhett's fingers moving through his hair.  He was nudged backward into the water again, enjoying the service enough that he did not feel the eyes watching white trails of soap drip down the length of his body.  After a long rinse, he was pulled out of the water and into a kiss.  He pressed into it quickly, then pulled away, pouring shampoo into his own palm, then rotating their positions to place Rhett in the spray.  He ducked to wet his hair, then shook the water out of his eyes in order to watch Link's face as he returned his favor, fingernails dragging lightly enough to raise goosebumps, then pressing deeply enough to release hidden tension. 

And so began a pattern of languorous initiation and repetition, each developing a personalized technique as he bathed the other, massaging tight muscles and delicately brushing over sensitive skin.  The exchange of attention hit Link like a drug, simultaneously satiating him and igniting a longing for more.  It was soon not enough to be touched; he needed to feel Rhett under his own hands, so he planted them on his sides, just lightly enough for the body to move within his grasp.  And when this failed to satisfy him, he pulled Rhett down into a deep kiss, searching the heat of his mouth for something to calm the fire burning him away from the inside.  But as Rhett leaned into the kiss, his thigh pressed directly into Link, drawing out a sound that sparked a fire of his own. 

"Aren't you tired?" he asked, whispering against Link's mouth.  "It's been a long day."

"I was thinking of going to bed after my shower," he answered, laughing in shock as the water was shut off and curtain flung open in a single sweep.  A towel landed over his head, thrown backward at him as Rhett had stepped out of the shower.  He followed behind, rubbing it over his hair until he felt Rhett's hands grab him beneath his arms and pull him forward in a lifting motion.  Instinctively, his legs wrapped around Rhett's waist, the towel now draped over his shoulders as Rhett's hands slipped under his thighs, holding him up.  Rhett moved slowly, clearly enjoying the feeling of Link's body pressed completely against his own.  He relished the power in carrying Link and smiled as the brunet tried to find a way to hold on without touching his shoulders.  He settled for wrapping his arms around Rhett's neck, the touch only heavy enough to keep him balanced.

"You're going to destroy your back," Link protested as they turned the corner out of the bathroom, lowering his head into series of light kisses.

"You wouldn't do that to me," Rhett mumbled into his mouth.  "Not again."

Link laughed. "I absolutely would.  You should put me down."  There was no conviction behind the words, but they still resulted in his being dropped onto his back on the bed.  Rhett remained standing, looking down at Link as he lay stretched across the white comforter.  A flash of worry crossed his features for only a second, but Link caught it.

"What?  What was that look?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbows, one knee bent up toward the ceiling.

Rhett shook his head, swallowing.  "No look," he bluffed, bending to crawl up the bed.  Link's foot raised, pressing back on his chest until he stood again. 

"No, there was a look. I know you too well for that.  You okay?"

He nodded, biting his lip.  The subtle act sent a wave of anxiety through Link. 

"I have to say something," Rhett said, voice uncharacteristically sincere.  "And you're...we're...just going to have to deal with it."

"Okay."

"And you have to keep your mouth shut until I'm done."

Link started to push himself up, but Rhett held out his hand to stop him.  "Stay there.  Just...right there."

Link lay back on his arms, suddenly aware of his facial expression as he tried to appear relaxed.  The effort must have been obvious, as Rhett broke into a smile and laughed once, easing some tension.

"I mean, I don't have a big speech prepared.  I just wanted to tell you that...this trip has been amazing.  The mopeds and hiking, swimming with sharks, driving a quad up a volcano, that huge storm yesterday...but this.  This is the best thing I've seen on this island."

"You're so full of shit."

"See why I told you to shut up?"

Link couldn't help but smile.  Rhett mirrored the expression as he sighed and continued. 

"Despite that outburst, I mean it.  There are plenty of other waterfalls and mountains and jungles out there, but for this view...I'd have happily stayed inside all week."  He placed his knees on the bed, edging in between Link's legs, sliding his hands up the length of his thighs until he had to stand on all fours above him.  As Link lay back flat, Rhett lowered his head, lightly kissing a trail up his stomach and chest, speaking into taut skin.

"I'd have touched and tasted every inch of you by now, more times than we could count.  I'd know every line, every vein, every bone.  I could navigate you by heart. I'd start here," he whispered, lips pressing feather-light on the tip of Link's clavicle.  "Or here," he added, moving to kiss the inside of his left elbow. "Here," at the inside of his right wrist.  "Or here," at the faint scar on his right hip.  "It wouldn't matter where I began," he explained, moving to hold his lips an inch away from Link's, tasting his breath as he hovered, eyes searching for some kind of acknowledgment as his voice moved on without him.  "I could always find my way home."

His arms slid up under Link's shoulders, hands finding his wet hair as their lips met, fitting together easily, naturally. 

"Is that all?" Link asked playfully, once they'd come up for air.  Rhett grinned.

"Not quite.  But maybe I'll come back to it," he answered, lowering into another, deeper kiss.  He sighed into it, seemingly relieved that Link hadn't turned away. 

He couldn't have if he'd wanted to: for the second time that week, Link felt like a mere spectator.  He had let go of the wheel, and his body had taken over the tasks that his mind was too overwhelmed to handle.  It grazed and rocked and touched and pulled without need of thought; his hands knew what do. 

He came back to himself at the sound of Rhett's soft laughter.  They had switched positions, and he lay beneath Link, the sound vibrating through his chest into the side of Link's cheek.  He raised his head, piercing Rhett with a wounded gaze.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

Rhett immediately cupped his face, rushing to soothe.  "No, no.  I'm not laughing at you.  You're just...you're grinding so hard, I can't move.  It's...impressive...and a little intimidating.  I think I lost you for a second.  You were so..." he finished the explanation with an upward thrust of his own, pressing against Link with an animalistic growl. 

After a heavy exhale, Link lowered his head, laying on Rhett and catching his breath.  "Sorry."

"No, don't be," Rhett replied, stroking the back of Link's head.  "Don't apologize, baby."

First Link tensed, then Rhett froze.

"Oh.  You don't like that."

"No..." Link said, eyes closing against the swell in his stomach.  "I think I like it too much."  He did not see Rhett smile above him, but he heard him hum in illumination.

"So," Link asked, a wave of boldness rushing through him after his admission.  "What are we doing here?"

" _You're_ on top of _me_ ," Rhett said smartly.  "You put yourself there."

"But you carried me in here.  What for?  What is it that you want?" he asked again, pushing upright, holding himself just above Rhett's groin, legs warming with the exertion.  He suppressed a shiver as Rhett's hands slid up his stomach, his lower lip pulled between his teeth, biting back a confession.  Link drew it out by resting back on his heels, inadvertently lowering his weight directly onto Rhett, their lengths pressing together as Rhett pulled him forward, eyes closing as he took a deep breath.  Link did the same, holding the air in his lungs until Rhett finally spoke.  His voice was low, nearly a whisper, as he slipped the words from his tongue to Link's ear.

"I want to feel all of you.  To break you down from the inside out."

A still, silent moment passed in which they both listened for the world to come crashing down.  That it didn't seemed sign enough.

"Okay," Link exhaled before he could talk himself out of it. 

Rhett turned his face into Link's neck, speaking slowly, deliberately.  "You...you're sure?"

He couldn't afford doubt, so Link pushed himself upright, running a hand through his hair wantonly.  "You want me to beg?"

"Not at all," Rhett replied, eyes widening, then narrowing as he considered –and dismissed— the idea.  "You're hardly the type."

Link's eyebrow flashed an arch in agreement before he pushed himself out of his straddling position and dropped back onto the bed.

"You want me to be quiet?" he asked, immediately moaning as Rhett's teeth sank into his hipbone. 

"Not at all," Rhett repeated, sighing at the groan he earned by taking Link into his mouth.

Link gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to buck his hips as Rhett's lips sank lower and lower on him.  There was no game to play, no teasing nips to build anticipation.  They'd reached the breaking point already, and Rhett seemed unwilling to abuse his power.  At first, he only exerted it to hold down Link's pelvis, rendering the body helpless to seek out any more pleasure than he was willing to give.  Link whined against the restraint, but found his hands sliding up over his head, unconsciously giving himself over, and soon humming with every bob of Rhett's head. 

In pulling away, Rhett planted a kiss on each thigh before reaching for the bed pillows.  With them in his left hand, he used his right to guide Link's calves onto his shoulders.  The power of the image caught them both off guard, and they froze for a moment, reveling in the position from their different perspectives.  Link could feel the sun's residual heat through Rhett's shoulders, and sympathized, using them as little as possible to lever his hips upward just long enough for Rhett to shove the pillows under his lower back. 

The arrangement left him feeling even more exposed, his legs necessarily bent and spread to maintain balance on the pillows.  Rhett smirked, rocking heavily against him a few times before sinking back down, tongue dragging up his length, pressing it harder against his stomach until it reached the tip, lapping up what had leaked onto his skin.  Link had watched, but let his head fall back at such a sight.  In doing so, he did not see coming the same tongue pressing into his perineum and lingering for a loaded moment before slipping downward.

Only a day had passed since the last time he'd felt it, but those hours now seemed like years.  Link bit his lip and reached for himself, relieved when Rhett allowed him to use his own hand.  He tried not to think about the fact that Rhett probably knew a distraction might be welcome.  His breath hitched as Rhett's fingers wrapped across the backs of his thighs, tongue plunging deep enough for his beard to press into Link's skin.  It slipped back and forth through him, chiseling at his verbal dam until it broke and fractured phrases came pouring from his mouth.

"Oh my God...that feels...oh, fuck.  That's so..."  His body surprised them both by pressing against the intrusion, hungry for more contact than available.

"Mmm...I've only got so much tongue, baby," Rhett said, smiling against his leg. 

"Use something _else_ , then," Link groaned, writhing as he said it.  Rhett slid away, pushing himself off the bed.  Under the watch of hooded blue eyes, he strode to the sideboard and picked up the aloe, eyebrow arched suggestively when he turned back around.  Link smirked and let the fingers of his left hand curl into a slow come-hither.

Rhett found his place again quickly, dipping his head to give a final deep lick across Link's entrance as the bottle cap popped open in his hands. 

"Good that you got 'all-natural.'  This stuff has all sorts of uses, you know," Rhett explained, voice dripping with his signature know-it-all drawl.  "Relieves skin irritation, naturally.  Helps to heal burns.  It can even have antibacterial properties," he explained, pressing with his left hand a palm-full of the cool gel against Link's ass, then running his fingers through it.  Link hissed at the cold, hardly listening to Rhett's words, until they landed on the inside of his thigh.

"But, if good for nothing else...there's always this."  His index finger pressed in, and he smiled darkly as Link's hand clawed into the bath towel at his side. 

Link was keenly aware of the eyes watching his every reaction.  He felt the stare as it roamed over him, taking in the sight of his slackened jaw, his subtly rocking hips, his fingers only loosely grasping himself, too concerned with the slow movements of the one inside him.  He sensed his audience when his teeth clenched against the careful introduction of a second digit, and when he draped his left arm over his eyes as they separated, stretching him lazily, propelling him toward an inviting madness.

But Rhett couldn't help his staring.  With his fluid movements, the flexion and relaxation of muscles that he did not show often, with his sharp teeth catching the dim light as he sucked air between them, Link put on quite a show.  The cycle had started twice now, a harsh inhalation followed by throaty hums as he convinced his body to settle and embrace what was happening to it.  He gave half of his attention to the gentle kisses traveling up and down his inner thighs, indeed grateful for the distraction.  With divided focus, he soon began pushing down on Rhett's hand, internally begging him to curl his fingers.  He never did. 

Instead, he sighed at the movement, asking quietly, "Ready for another?"

Link wanted to nod his response, but couldn't seem to drag his focus back to his upper body. 

"Hmm?" Rhett murmured, grinning when Link's knees pulled even further apart.  When his voice finally broke through, it was low and ragged.

"God, yes."

And so the cycle started one more time, this time with a whimper and a tension that locked Link's body in place.  Rhett held Link's hip with his right hand, stroking it with his thumb; his left froze in place. 

"Ssh...just breathe.  You're doing so well," he spoke softly, bending to kiss Link's tightened stomach.  "God, you're amazing.  You're going to feel so good, I promise.  Take a breath now."

Link did as he was told, filling his lungs with unwanted air and exhaling slowly. 

"Good.  Perfect.  Keep breathing.  Just let go," Rhett continued, trying to guide him back to a place where he could enjoy himself.  Link followed his voice, mimicked his breathing, and held onto the hand over his hip.  Eventually, he dared to open his eyes again, and was met with the sight of Rhett's temple resting against his thigh, bright eyes looking intently into his face.  He recognized the expression from the day before, having caught a glimpse of the sobering sincerity in his features.  It released his hold on the tension and allowed his body to relax again, a wave of exhilaration coursing through him as he predicted the next move. 

His focus on the future was temporarily obliterated as Rhett's hand began moving again, opening him in ways he'd never considered for himself.  Simultaneously too much and not enough, the process was more frightening than he would have imagined.  It demanded trust, testing his faith in Rhett not to hurt him.  It dragged him down the line between pain and pleasure, and forced him to acknowledge just how thin the separation could be.  As the preparation had lit his nerves on fire, he feared that feel of _Rhett_ , the full heat and weight of him, might consume him completely.  It was a risk he could not wait to take.

Link's fingers slid up Rhett's forearm and pulled, guiding the long body over him.  He sighed as the fingers slipped away, drawing his next breath from the warm skin of Rhett's neck, burying his face there as he pulled Rhett's waist against him with a single well-placed leg.

Rhett pulled back just enough to first gently bring their lips together, now demurely keeping his tongue to himself.  Then he looked down into Link's face, a myriad of questions in his eyes.  Link answered them all with a much deeper kiss, wrapping his arms around Rhett's neck and offering a consent that words alone could never give.

He longed for the closeness of Rhett when he pulled away.  His fingers flexed toward him as Rhett coated himself in the gel, nose crinkling at its chill, making Link smile and forget the butterflies in his stomach for a moment.  With a final glance downward, Rhett worked his way back up Link's body, dropping heavy kisses along the way, until they were again face-to-face. 

His gaze conveyed the rest of what he'd wanted to say, but Link resisted the message.  Instead, he pulled Rhett tight to him so that they could not see each other's faces, suffering the scratch of a beard on his shoulder to momentarily clear his mind.  Rhett kissed his ear, the only skin he could access, and leaned into the body beneath him, halting as Link's thighs gripped his sides tightly. 

Time slowed for them, allowing them to revel in this new and ultimate connection.  Their senses sharpened, each now hyperaware of every twitch of muscle and point of contact.  Rhett pressed the side of his head against Link's and listened to him breathe, waiting until labored pants slowed to deep inhalations before he lowered his full weight onto him.  They both groaned, shocked back into reality by mutual exclamations. 

Link's hands slid like molasses down Rhett's sides, only stopping once they reached his backside.  With a deep squeeze, he pulled Rhett further against him, closing what little distance remained and drawing forth a breathy string of expletives.  In that instant, the pendulum swung, and he found himself whispering encouragements into Rhett's neck.  He talked them both into relaxing, tongue only failing once Rhett began to move. 

With a hand on either side of Link's head, Rhett pushed himself up so he could again look into bright blue eyes.  Finding them closed, he pushed himself up further, standing on his knees as Link's legs wrapped around him.  They moved together slowly, Rhett daring to pull almost completely free before bringing them completely back together, Link's hand winding into his own hair as he lost himself against the sensation.  As he built speed, Rhett grabbed Link's hips and pulled, causing the lithe body to meet him halfway.  Link gasped, surprised not only at his feeling of helplessness while in Rhett's hands, but at how much he enjoyed it.  He had become pliable, responding instinctively to Rhett's silent direction, and soon found his legs again on Rhett's warm shoulders, the position every bit as dirty and satisfying as he'd predicted the first time they'd found it.  It gave Rhett easy access to him, and as long fingers wrapped around him again, Link bucked into them, caught in a dizzying mixture of different pleasures.

Rhett had built a satisfying rhythm, holding Link's right leg as he rocked, and it took only the slightest shift of his angle to finally pry open the eyes he'd been seeking out.  Link cried out under the stroke of his deepest nerves, and as soon as the prayers spilled from his lips, Rhett's were there to catch them.

"God, just... _look_ at you," Rhett growled, still seemingly in a mild state of disbelief.  Link noticed that his right leg had traveled with Rhett's shoulder as the top of his own thigh now pressed against his chest.  He made a note to remember this bout of flexibility as Rhett moved his shoulder just enough to let the leg slide back down his side. 

Their foreheads pressed together, Link could not discern Rhett's features, but as their breathing had grown increasingly strained, he suspected neither of them could last much longer.  And it was only in the protection of this passion, this entangled state of give and take, of trust and need, that he felt ready to listen.

"Say it," he whispered, his voice gruff.  "Tell me."  Rhett wasted no time in his answer.  The words had been choking him.

"You're everything, Link," he confessed through shallow breaths. "You're a force all your own, and you've had me for...forever.  I never stood a chance against you. You're written all over me, inside and out."

"Rhett...Oh, God, Rhett," was all Link could manage, his voice giving way to a hoarse whisper halfway through. 

The air crackled around them, and Rhett crashed into him, driving their bodies together with nearly enough power to bruise.  Link melted beneath him, wrapping his arms around Rhett's neck and holding on for dear life against the storm that carried him over the edge.  His throat constricted around a cry, rendering him completely silent as he rode a climax more powerful than he could ever have predicted.

Witness to the phenomenon, Rhett could only follow suit, his own rush compelling his final confession, whispered over and over against Link's neck.

"I love you, Link.  I love you so much."

 

Their highs took a blissfully long time to dissipate, ridden out in gentle thrusts and soft groans as Link held them as close together as possible, wrapping both arms and legs around body above him, mending himself to Rhett in a subconscious desire to never be parted.  His heart ached with the effort, paralyzed with the fear that, if they broke apart now, they would never fit together the same way. 

Eventually, Rhett raised his head again, staring down at Link, finding all the response he needed in his eyes.  Time waited again for them as they looked at each other, each exploring the other's face as if for the first time.  And for a long while, the two men who lived to talk said nothing at all.


	10. To Memory

"Hurry up.  You look fine.  Put the hat on and let's go."

Rhett shot a frown out the bathroom door, dragging out the process of straightening his white panama hat until Link swung open the bungalow's front door and marched out, shouting a cold, "Bye!" as he left.

Halfway down the gangway, Link felt a hand press into his own.  He held it tightly, walking fast enough to have to pull Rhett toward the main lobby.  A yellow taxi van waited just outside its main doors, its driver leaning against the vehicle's side, smiling broadly as the men approached.  Link pushed Rhett toward the backseat as he spoke to the driver, each securing their transport in hushed voices.

"Where's the fire?" Rhett asked once Link had finally slid in beside him.  "Are we on a secret mission?" He gasped dramatically before asking his next question in a loud whisper.  "Are you going to kill me and dump my body in some undisclosed location?  Oh, no."

"Stop guessing," Link commanded, eyes straight ahead as if validating Rhett's suggestions.

"At least I got a nice trip in beforehand.  Hell of a place to die."

Link fired a disapproving glance at him, then shook his head coolly at the pair of eyes watching them in the rearview mirror.

If Rhett continued guessing his destination, he did so silently, watching the island pass by as they traveled north.  His excited energy released itself in a swaying knee, drumming fingertips, and a general inability to sit still.  It made Link smile: after the adventures of the day before, he wanted to impress Rhett with what he'd arranged, and every mile closer to their drop site inflated his confidence.

In the uniform of the island, board shorts and short sleeved button-up shirts, their bodies had darkened, giving them each summery glows that only enhanced a combined appearance of exuberance.  With no pretense to uphold, Link allowed himself to truly look at Rhett, to take in the full sight of his long golden limbs and the ever-present smirk, without fear of being caught. 

In his staring, he didn't notice their surroundings, and was snapped out of his daze by the voice of their driver as he came to a stop.

"Okay, gentlemen.  Enjoy your trip.  It's a beautiful day for it.  We'll have a car here at seven o'clock."

Rhett raised his eyebrows at Link, already impressed with, but not surprised by, his foresight.

"Thank you," Link replied to the driver, opening the sliding door and slipping out onto a sandy sidewalk.  Rhett followed, stopping to examine his surroundings – a beach, a series of short docks, a row of pastel colored buildings housing a variety of ocean-based businesses – and nearly losing Link in the process.  He had already begun walking toward the harbor, folded papers in hand.  Consulting them quickly, he re-secured the sheets in his pocket and walked down the main walkway of the docks, reading the various gangways' numbers as he went.  Rhett followed behind quietly, a grin already forming on his face.  It broadened into a full-blown smile as Link found the row he'd sought.

At its end, a forty-foot sailing yacht awaited, a bronze-skinned couple milling around on its deck, a silver-haired man taking direction from an older beach-blonde woman.  When she laid eyes on the approaching pair, she smiled brightly enough for Rhett to see from halfway down the gangway. 

"You must be our passengers!  Good morning!" she called out, moving to step off the boat with ease as the man raised his hand a single wave, continuing about his work.

"I'm Val and that's Tom," she continued, extending her hand.  Link shook it warmly, trying not to stare at the large boat behind her, even when she waved her arm toward it.  "This is the Zephyr."

"Morning," he replied, shaking her hand warmly, introducing himself in turn.  Rhett caught up and did the same, mirroring her enthusiastic smile, but otherwise remaining quiet. 

"We didn't think we'd get to go out today.  Haven't had a group since Sunday, and storms tend to shake people up, so when we got the call last night...made our day!  Normally there's six or eight of us, but we don't mind going with just the four.  Less to cook for, at any rate.  Not that I guess I mind—"

"Stop rambling, Val.  Let's go," her partner shouted from the bow.  She rolled her eyes and gestured toward the boat's deck, showing the pair where to board. 

"We'll let that one go.  Let's hit the water, gentlemen." 

 

From their positions at the stern of the boat, they realized quickly who captained the Zephyr.  Tom ran about the deck, ducking under the boom, climbing over benches, spooling and unspooling ropes at Val's command.  She unhurriedly delivered the orders that led them out to sea, virtually ignoring their guests for the first twenty minutes of the voyage.  All the while, Link watched, entertained by their dynamic as the boat glided across the waves, away from the docks and into the deep waters circling the island.  They'd long left the harbor by the time he noticed that Rhett was looking only at him.  His cheeks flushed.

"What?" Link asked quietly, failing to hide his smile as Rhett slid closer to him on the rearmost bench, arm encircling his shoulders, morning sun brightening what features were not covered by his hat and aviators.

"You.  It's you again."

"Well, stop staring at me.  Look around you."

"You're taking me sailing."  Rhett's voice was quiet, but strained with excitement.

"Well, Val and Tom are taking you sailing.  At my request."

Rhett shook his head in disbelief, then leaned it back to fully take in his surroundings: the entirely white deck, complete with two mirroring bench seats, a table nestled between them, the blue canvas canopy providing shade that they did not yet need, the broad boom and mast that stretched proudly toward a cloudless sky, equipped with a bright white sail collapsed on itself, waiting to be called into action.  The yacht's engines roiled beneath the deck, as if the boat itself was frustrated with their use.  Val seemed to feel it too, and stood at the helm, deeply lined face directed toward the sun, a strong breeze whipping her hair about her neck, revealing a bit of white among the sandy yellow strands.  With eyes closed, she reached behind her and turned the key, shutting off the engines.  Tom waited beneath the boom, line in hand, watching her ritual and waiting for her signal. 

Without the engines, the boat was silent, none of the men daring to speak without Val's permission.  As they rocked in the water, Link felt Rhett's hand tighten on his bicep, enraptured by a suddenly dramatic scene.  Val's eyes eventually opened, and she raised her right arm.  With it, the sail climbed into the air, casting a shadow over half the boat in its proud display.  She smiled and clapped for Tom's efforts; Rhett and Link joined in, giddy with excitement.

From there, they sailed, harnessing the wind to push them around the far edges of the island, through narrow channels and over bright coral, Val pointing out notable landmarks from her place at the helm, Tom pointing out various aquatic life as it passed. 

Link toured the boat, checking out the deck in a single sweep of his eyes and moving quickly into the cabin at the center of the craft.  As described in the tourism center the night before, the interior contained two private rooms at the bow, consisting solely of queen sized beds with only enough room to close the thin doors.  A surprisingly spacious sitting area was situated at the interior's center, while stern-side, a bathroom and a tiny kitchen space faced each other, giving the space the feel of a much larger room. 

As his fingers ran over the dials of a retro styled radio, Link let himself consider Rhett's comically wild plan.  Sailing toward death sounded noble and adventurous in name, but the reality of the prospect suddenly seemed far more domestic.  More likely, it would be no grand adventure of battling an untamed sea, but rather a quiet departure amongst the comforts of the modern world, set aboard a miniature hotel suite.  It fit Rhett perfectly: an image of rugged masculinity that concealed a conflicting appreciation for more luxurious things.  The thought made him smile as he eventually found his way out of the cabin and back to the deck. 

Naturally, Rhett had found himself pursuing a nautical education, and Val had responded enthusiastically, explaining the workings of the craft, having him temporarily take over Tom's duties at her direction.  Link found him tying off the smaller of the two sails, lips pulled into a permanent grin. 

"That should do it.  We'll take it from here.  Heading into a cove soon," Val announced, retaking the wheel in her hand.

"Are you learning?" Link asked as Rhett sat down next to him.

"Well, I adjusted the jib.  But I don't really remember why.  She threw a lot at me at once," he answered, shaking his head.  Link laughed.

"You'll love the cabin.  I mean, once you sit.  You're gonna have to duck."

"Had a feeling."

 

 

They ushered in the afternoon from the privacy of a cove, where Val had Rhett help lower the sails and drop anchor so that they could snorkel in coral-bottomed waters.  Tom guided their swimming tour, eventually leaving the pair to enjoy the scenery alone.  Rhett draped his wrists over his knees from his place in the sand, staring out at the boat rocking gently in the water, Link supine beside him, eyes closed against the midday sun.

A timid wind took the sea from their skin, leaving them surprisingly cool and comfortable, allowing drowsy minds to wander. 

"Have you ever gotten the feeling..." Rhett began, voice carrying easily over the breeze, "that you're in a moment you just know you're going to remember?  Like an awareness that you're making a memory?  That somehow you'll hold on to everything around you?"

"You make it sound kind of passive.  Is it not a choice?"  Link replied, intrigued by the topic.

"It can be.  But I feel like that's different.  That requires paying attention and working at it.  I _am_ talking about being passive.  Just being in the moment and sensing that _this_ is going to stick with you."

"Are you having a moment?"

"I think so, buddy.  I think that, between the sun and the water, the freaking _sailboat_ , and..." His voice drifted away, causing Link to crack an eyelid.

"And?"

Rhett lay on his back, pressing the full length of his arm against Link's, his fingertips resting lightly over the back of Link's hand.

"Just everything.  I'm going to remember this.  I won't have a choice."

"Good.  Not a bad way to spend our last day."  As soon as Link said it, he wished he hadn't.  Somehow, voicing the notion made it more real, more unavoidable.  Rhett's fingers wove between his own and squeezed in silent confirmation that he had felt something, too.

They lay listening to the tide, taking turns dozing and humming familiar tunes to each other as the afternoon wore on despite them.  Eventually, the ringing of a small bell called them back to the boat, where they found a lunch of shrimp cocktail, fresh fruits and vegetables, and champagne waiting for them. 

 

With a shrimp in one hand, Val raised her flute over the center of the deck's table.

"What do we toast, boys?" she asked, gaze shifting between the pair seated across from her.  "Guests' choice.  And make it good."

Link looked to Rhett, who smiled and raised his own glass.

"To thirty two years."

Val's eyebrows lifted in surprise, and she couldn't help but ask.  "Of what?  Life?  About all you can be old enough for."

Rhett thought for a moment before answering.  "Of support and friendship.  Inspiration.  Of laughing so hard your sides hurt, and offering to be the bad guy, and having each other's backs.  And yes, in a way, making each other more alive than we'd have been otherwise."

Val glanced at Link, and upon finding him beaming as he stared at Rhett, she touched her glass to Rhett's.

"To thirty two years of life, then."

"Here, here," Tom chimed in, drinking quickly so that he could resume his meal.

As their lunch drew to a close, Rhett leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the bench, visually framing Link.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked Val, who had poured herself a second glass.

"Oh...ten years? We moved down here from Chesapeake Bay in 2006."

"That's a big move.  We went from Raleigh to L.A. a few years ago, but man...This is a huge change, I imagine."

"It was.  We'd both spent a good part of our adult lives inside.  I was a hospice nurse; he was in I.T.  But I'd loved sailing since I was a kid, so we saved up enough money for a boat, an apartment, and a move, and off we went."

Tom nodded quietly as he gathered the dishes from the table and took them inside the cabin.  Val grinned to herself as she watched him disappear.

"You know, I was only forty-two, but I was dyin' in that place.  I was born to be on the water, and the East coastline wasn't cuttin' it anymore.  So I said, 'Tommy,'" her eyes glittered with mischief at the name, "'we gotta get the hell outta here.  It's gonna be scary, but I've got to try.'"

"So you just left?" Link asked, resting his elbows on the table, his right hand wrapping around the back of his neck.

"Well, like I said, we saved a little money. That was his idea.  I'd have probably just taken off and wound up shipwrecked in Mexico.  But yeah, we left. The best part is that he was never much for sailing in the first place.  Never had any opinions about where we should go.  I followed the ocean, and he followed me.  It just has to be that way sometimes.  Life tosses this dream out in front of you, and you just have to run after it.  I've heard too many dying people tell me they wished they hadn't been so afraid, you know?"  She laughed at herself and stood, stretching her back before heading for the cabin.  "What am I saying?  Of course you know.  Look at the two of you." 

As the door closed behind her, Link looked to Rhett and found him staring out at the water, lips pulled into a small smile.

 

The sun hung low in the sky as the boat meandered back toward its harbor, Val at the helm, Tom in the cabin, and Rhett and Link seated at the back, watching the water behind them.  A dreamy peace had settled over the boat, everyone occupied with private thoughts and happy to leave each other alone.  Rhett had wrapped his left arm around Link's back, and Link allowed his head to rest on Rhett's shoulder, carefree in the presence of a spirit as warm and open as their captain.  He held Rhett's right hand between both of his palms, stroking the knuckles absentmindedly with his thumb and letting his eyes fall closed.  For a long, quiet moment, he allowed the past week to replay in his mind, recalling as many sensory details as possible.  In one instant he could smell the smoke from the fire dancers; the next, he could feel the spray of the waterfall on his shoulders.  From the sound of the rainstorm to the smooth backs of stingrays, the constant was Rhett's eyes, both watching and seeing him.  And now he knew there was a difference: anyone could watch their ceaseless teasing and shared laughter.  But one could only see the blend of elation and addiction in their contact if he knew where to look.  It was buried deep, beneath layers of competitiveness and jokes at the other's expense.  It was the foundation upon which entire lives had been built, and in the course of a week in the tropics, away from the distractions and siren songs of real-world responsibility, they had dug through the layers of lives well-lived and seen it for what it truly was.

Rhett sighed and tightened his grip around Link's shoulders, burying his lips in his sea-blown hair as he spoke quietly. 

"I know this is hardly a good place, but I don't want to bring the conversation back into the room with us.  Is that stupid?"

Link chuckled sadly.  "No, it's not stupid."

"Can't avoid the question anymore."

"What happens when we go home..." In speaking the words, Link's eyes lost focus, his entire demeanor growing distant.  Rhett ran his fingernail along the line of Link's ring.

"How do we tell them?"

"Do we?" The thought was out before he'd really considered it.  They both stiffened at Link's suggestion, equally surprised that he'd dared to speak it.  And equally weighing the option.

"That..." Rhett finally replied, speaking even more quietly, "that really makes this sound bad."

"It's not exactly good, is it?" Link fired back, reality starting to trickle back into his consciousness.  Potential consequences rushed his brain, and in a bout of selfishness, he wanted to avoid them.

"So...we just go back to...how we were."

Link did not know how to respond.  He sighed, having quickly grown frustrated with the lack of a clear path. 

"That's going to be so hard," Rhett confessed, kissing Link's head. 

"What else do we do?  Put yourself in Jessie's shoes.  How would you feel?" Link asked, throat tight.  When Rhett failed to answer, he pressed on, forcing his voice to work against its will.  "Someone is going to get hurt.  Shouldn't it be the ones who broke their vows in the first place?"

"I don't know.  It doesn't seem fair that we just keep this from them."

Link's tone sharpened. "Oh.  Let's just rip that bandage off, then.  'Hi, babe.  How are your parents? Oh, our trip?  It was great.  We had sex.  A few times, actually.  Hope that's cool.'"

Rhett exhaled through his nose, both amused and annoyed at the harshly whispered show.  He chose not to engage in the argument Link was trying to start. "Don't get mean."

"This _is_ mean," Link said, sitting upright, out of Rhett's grasp.  "What we've done is mean."

"Yeah," Rhett sighed.  "It looks that way from one angle.  But what we've done was also inevitable.  I mean, do you really think we could have fought this for the rest of our lives?"

"We were off to a good start."

Rhett nodded, chewing his lip before he followed up the question.  "Would you have wanted to?"

Link sniffed and closed his eyes against the burn that had risen in them.  A moment of heavy silence passed before he could speak, and when finally he did, he could only manage a choked whisper. 

"I can't lose her, Rhett.  I can't let go of her."

Rhett pulled him in close again, stroking his hair.  "I'm not asking you to.  I would never ask you to."

"I can't lose you, either.  I wouldn't know what to do.  Everything would fall apart."

Rhett sighed, shaking his head.  "You couldn't lose me if you tried.  I'm not going anywhere.  No matter what happens, I'm right here." 

They sat in silence together, fingers again intertwined in Rhett's lap.  Link fought the urge to pull away.  He knew himself too well and realized that his instinctive method of dealing with a painful situation was to disconnect entirely.  But to do so meant repositioning themselves on opposite sides of a gap newly bridged, leaving Rhett to cope alone.  There was no smooth way out.

"Can we at least wait a little before we tell them?" he finally asked, snapping Rhett out of his own thoughts.  "I need to figure out the words."

"Sure," Rhett agreed, pretending as though he hadn't had the words all along.

 

 

Val offered her farewell with a powerful hug to both men.  She had not heard their conversation, but seemed to recognize their need for strength by the end of the voyage, and happily passed along some of her own. 

In walking through the harbor, riding in the cab, stopping for a light dinner just outside the resort, and meandering the beach near the lobby, their hands never drifted far from one another, each hungry for a physical reminder of the other's presence.

The bungalow welcomed them back with a peaceful sunset painting its interior in a warm glow.  The door swung closed behind them, Rhett pausing to lock it.  Turning back to the room, he came face to face with Link and flinched: his blue eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and longing that nearly wrenched his heart from his chest. 

"Link..." There was no more to the thought; he'd simply needed to say the name.

Link's hands darted up and around Rhett's neck, pulling him down into a powerful kiss.  It was desperate and final and knocked the wind from them both, leaving them gasping against each other. 

 

Their bodies moved slowly, as if underwater, wrapping arms around waists and fingers into hair, lips grazing and tongues tasting vast expanses of warm skin, now committing as much to memory as possible.  They were patient with each other, saying nothing when one had to stop to catch his breath, or the other could not make eye contact for fear of losing composure. 

The bed offered a soft place to fall, and cradled them together when they inevitably did.  True to form, Link sought comfort in control, and guided Rhett onto his back, settling his own hips between long legs, their chests pressing together as he drove his tongue into the warmth of Rhett's mouth.  He rocked against him slowly, groaning when Rhett rolled his own pelvis upward, meeting him halfway.  Rhett knew what he needed; he always did.

"I meant what I said last night, Link.  I'm yours.  You can have me.  You already do."

Link said nothing in return, but let his hands slide up Rhett's sides, dragging his shirt with them.  As it pulled over his head, Rhett stared into Link's face, hoping for blue eyes to meet him.  He would have to wait.

Instead, Link untied his shorts and pulled them away just as easily.  In the same moment, he undressed himself.  There was no ceremony in it; they did not have the time.  Settling back into place, Link allowed his entire body to relax over Rhett for a moment, head resting on his chest as Rhett's arms wrapped around his back.  He pressed his ear tight to Rhett's chest, at home in the heartbeat beneath, and finding all the encouragement he needed within it.

After a deep breath, his hand slipped between them, fingers delicately encircling Rhett as his tongue began lapping the ocean's salt from his skin.  It had dried on both of them, leaving their bodies to slide effortlessly across one another.  Rhett kept his eyes open, watching every heavy kiss as it landed over his ribs and down his stomach, a dozen goodbyes searing his skin.  His knees fell open easily as Link reached for the aloe on the nightstand and then lowered between them. 

The trembling hands did not make Rhett nervous; Link had been a good student.  He was cautious and gentle as he pressed into Rhett, groaning in anticipation upon feeling the heat of his body.  Rhett relaxed quickly, finding all the comfort he needed in the warmth of Link's hands.  He tried to wait, to let Link move as slowly as he needed, but when thin fingers curled into him, his desperation peaked, pushing him to reach for Link's arm and pull him back into a deep kiss.  A sudden ache shot through Link's shoulder at the rough gesture.  He reveled in it, welcoming the instant punishment for his sins, trying to convince himself that he could pay with his body for what he'd done with his heart.

Rhett's legs enveloped his waist, locking him in place, begging him to move forward.  He obliged, aligning himself carefully and lowering his weight until Rhett exhaled below him.  Wide eyes fell closed, squeezing tight against the overload of sensations.  Link stilled, waiting patiently for Rhett's breath to return, kissing his cheek gently and saying nothing of the tear he tasted there.

And that was what it took.  Countless kisses and one-sided confessions could never have cut him so deeply as staring into the face of the man who needed him so much that it hurt.  With the wound came the words, leaping from his lips to die on Rhett's body.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, eyes closing in shame.  Rhett's hand cupped his face, thumb running along his cheekbone.

"No...you have nothing to be sorry for."  Rhett slid his free hand down Link's back, pushing down on his lower back and sighing as they connected even more deeply.

"You've been so good to me," Link finally said, head swimming as he restrained himself.  "You've been fearless.  You put it all out there, and I've...I've given you nothing.  I didn't know what to do...what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"I do.  Before I can't."

Rhett's legs tightened around him, drawing guttural sounds from them both.

"You were right today: You make me feel more alive than I could ever hope for on my own.  You call me the brave one, but I've always known you have my back.  And with you there, I've had nothing to fear.  But I've needed you.  I've always needed you.  I've held you at arm's length, not because I didn't want you, but because I was terrified by how much I loved you."

Rhett had curled his hips upward as he listened, encouraging Link to move, his physical pleasure accompanied by words that felt like heaven to speak.  The truth had pried their eyes open and forced them to finally look at one another, seeing together the terrible, beautiful mess they had made on the island.  The room had grown hot, their bodies glistening against each other as they breathed the air from each other's lungs. 

"I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you earlier.  I'm sorry it's taken me so long to understand."

"You're here now.  You're with me now," Rhett spoke against his lips, silencing him before he could apologize any further.  "So stay here. Stay with me, in this moment.  Please, stay here."

Link nodded and Rhett wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling them as close together as possible, their chins resting on each other's shoulders, inhaling the scents of each other and adding them to the details they wanted desperately to remember.

"God, Link," Rhett groaned, breath warm against his ear, "God, you feel incredible."

Link pushed himself up and out of Rhett's arms, standing on his knees as they collided against each other, taking a moment to survey the scene.  The sight of Rhett stretched before him, beneath him, lips parted, chin pointed toward the ceiling as his impossibly long back arched off the bed, brought a flush to Link's face, a thrill of unreality flashing through him.  It simply did not seem possible that Rhett would give himself over like this, that they would fit together so well, that it could feel so intoxicatingly good and irrefutably _right_.  But here they were, inextricably bound to the point of each denying his own release in order to serve the other. 

Rhett stretched his hand behind Link, palming his backside, fingertips digging in enough to weaken his resolve and pull him forward again.  In his collapse, Link left enough room for his hand to take hold of Rhett.  With that, the fuse was lit, and Rhett tensed, fingers reaching for and twisting into Link's hair, pulling just enough to drag him over the edge, too.  Their gazes met just long enough for Rhett to watch euphoria bleed into the purest sadness in Link's eyes before he raised his head, capturing Link's open mouth against his own, swallowing down his strangled cry and the single quiet sob that followed.

 

The night passed in this way, their bodies wound together as they resisted sleep, drinking in as much of each other as they could, talking quietly about anything and everything but the real world that awaited them, promising to disassemble what they'd only just built.

 

Morning had no mercy and came to tear them away from the warmth of their overwater bungalow, forcing them to bid it farewell in a quiet frenzy of packing and checking every corner of the room for their belongings, a process they had put off as long as possible.  They cursed the speed at which the receptionist checked them out and the ease with which they found a cab to take them to the airport.  They went through the familiar process of checking luggage, finding their gate, and boarding their flight without moving more than a few inches from each other.  Even on the plane, in the privacy of their close seats, they dared to interlock their fingers.  Still, Link stood no chance against the night of lost rest and his years-old habit, and within an hour, he fell into a deep sleep.  He'd known it was coming, and Rhett could only watch as Link's hand slipped out of his own.


	11. What Doesn't Work

When Link awoke, he found that Los Angeles had put them back in their places, opening a chasm between them that even the most cautious glances dared not cross.  They walked quietly through the crowded airport, eyes trained forward, attention dedicated solely to placing one foot in front of the other. They split a cab home from the airport, sitting as close to their respective doors as possible, doing everything in their power to attempt a clean break.  Link was dropped off first, barely uttering a goodbye as he exited the vehicle, his silence speaking volumes.

His family had returned the night before, and cheered for him as he walked through the door.  Bombarded with hugs, Link felt the tension leave his shoulders.  He was home, with a family that still loved him, a wife that still smiled at him.  As the kids meandered back into the living room, he was left facing Christy in the foyer, bags dropped at his sides.  She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, trying to decipher his expression of bewilderment.

"What's wrong?"

He ran his hand through his hair, shaking himself out of his fog and smiling, letting himself be pulled back toward the glow that was her smile.  "I've missed you.  I guess I just got overwhelmed there for a second."

She stepped forward and pulled him into another long hug. "I missed you, too.  We all did."  She pulled her head back to look up at him.  "You might have called, mister."

"I didn't want to catch you with the kids.  They'd want to talk; I'd have to lie," he whispered.

"About all that work you were doing out in the sun.  Look at your tan!"

"It'll be gone by Monday.  Hey, you didn't call me, either."

She smiled sheepishly, tucking her head back against his chest.  "I knew you were okay.  You had Rhett."

She did not see his eyes fall closed as he squeezed her even tighter and pressed his lips into her hair.

 

The Neals were left with a single day to fully resettle into their routines, making a quick shopping trip, washing endless loads of travel-worn laundry, and kick-starting the house back to life.  It passed quickly, and too soon the family had separated into their bedrooms for the night, each preparing to begin a new workweek.

Link lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of what needed to be done at the studio the next day, trying to think of anything that was not Rhett.

"You alright?"

Christy's voice pulled him back to the present and he nodded, rolling onto his side to watch her settle into the bed.  She furrowed her brow.  

"You had this look on your face, like...I don't know.  Like you weren't.  What were you thinking about?"

"Work."

She nodded, her mouth forming an "Oh" in understanding. 

"Sorry.  A week is a long time to drop everything."

She nodded.  "That's why you have the team you do.  You'll have that place up and buzzing in an hour tomorrow, just watch.  Did you two spend your whole trip talking about work?"

He turned further to lie on his stomach, sliding his arms under his pillow.  His shoulder ached in protest.

"No, actually.  He wouldn't do _anything_ work related.  Said he was off the clock.  Can you believe that?"

She laughed.  "Good! I'm glad he did.  Someone has to tear you away from it every once in a while.  Go figure it'd be the only one who is equally invested.  Now, why you're willing to listen to him over any of the rest of us..."

"Not you too.  I'm not a workaholic," he argued, redirecting the conversation.

"I know, I know," she replied, leaning to kiss his cheek before settling into her own pillow.  "You're just fun to tease." 

He grunted in response, closing his eyes and praying for a quick descent into a dreamless sleep.  Christy's soft voice interrupted him, drawing him back to a now-darkened room.

"Jessie called yesterday.  We're watching the boys this Friday for their date night.  And we decided to have dinner together next Friday.  They're going to come over and you guys can tell us all about your adventure.  Or, rather, he's going to tell me all the stuff you don't in the next two weeks."

"Okay.  That sounds good," he lied.

 

* * *

 

_No carpool today.  Have to get an oil change on way home._

Link had read the message three times, looking for meanings that were not there.  It had fogged his morning, distracting him as he fumbled through dressing, eating, and shaving, processes that seemed to drag on for hours as he grappled with the mixture of excitement and anxiety churning in his stomach.  He prepared for the worst, assuming that in an attempt to cover their transgressions, their relationship would go cold.  Staying home seemed easier than bearing the death of their bond.  Taking to the highway and abandoning his entire life appealed to him even more.  At least that way, it was his choice.

He blasted the radio on the drive to the studio, trying to drown his fatalist fears in waves of sound.  It worked, until a vaguely familiar song aired, gnawing at his nerves as he tried to place it.  It was a party song, hardly his genre, but as a chorus of female voices shouted its refrain, the hairs on the back of his neck raised.  The last time he'd heard it, he'd danced and swayed and stumbled and wound up pressed against a wall.

His hand shot to the console, killing the music with a heavy slap.

"No cheap thrills today."

 

* * *

 

Rhett's car was parked nearest the door; he'd arrived early.  Link grazed it with his knuckle as he passed, hardly noticing how hot it had already grown in the California sun.  As he pulled open the studio door, he nearly laughed at himself, hardly believing the tension in his own body.  Still, his eyes could not adjust to the dim interior fast enough as he sought Rhett out.  The open workspace was empty, bouncing the sound of his footsteps off its high walls as he moved toward their private office, shaking his head at himself one last time. 

Inside, Rhett sat at his desk, coffee mug in hand as he stared at his laptop.  Whatever moment of truth, whatever signal of disaster that Link anticipated, had failed to arrive.  It was not strained.  It was just Rhett.

"Morning," he said warmly, gaze tied to the screen in front of him.  "Did you see the accident on the freeway?  It might have been cleared already.  Looked bad, though."

The greeting was so incredibly normal, so mundane, and so welcome.  Link laughed at its simplicity, causing Rhett's brow to lift.

"Dark, bro.  Someone could have died."

Link shook his head, crossing the office and dropping into his own chair.  "Yeah, no.  That's awful.  I missed it."

"You check your inbox yet?" Rhett asked, leaning back in his chair to watch Link turn on his own computer.

"No," Link answered slowly, surprised at himself for letting it go so long.  Rhett nodded knowingly before pushing himself out of his chair. 

"I'm going to start some coffee.  Be right back."

The screen sparked to life quickly, and with a deep breath, Link opened his work email, eyes widening at the result of a week off duty.

" _Jesus_..."

The hallway filled with Rhett's booming laughter.

 

 

 The morning passed in a flurry of keystrokes and phone calls, until finally, the studio regained its pulse and its creators were left to their own devices in their office, a half-eaten pizza cooling on their coffee table.

"It's a well-established joke.  I'm just sayin', I think they could really make some money if they change it."

"Just call it 'Pizza Kitchen.'"

"Yeah," Link argued, picking a slice of avocado off what remained of the colorful meal and popping into his mouth.  "And keep the full name for the other forty-nine states.  I think they're popular enough that everyone would get it."

Rhett raised his eyebrows, turning and leaning his right side into the back of the sofa, mirroring Link's position on the opposite end.  Their socked feet interlocked on the center cushion.

"You'll have to pitch this campaign alone," he said with a shake of his head.  Link threw his hands in the air.

"Fine.  Maybe it's not my best," he admitted in a huff, dissolving into quiet laughter as Rhett scrunched his nose in agreement.

They grew quiet, now facing each other full on.  Link breathed deeply and sighed.

"What's that for?" Rhett asked, head tilted.  Link thought for a moment, searching for the source of his obvious relief.

"I don't know.  I guess I'm just grateful that this still works.  That we can still sit here and be stupid and not feel...I don't know," he confessed, words failing him.  Rhett arched a brow and glanced at the cracked door, speaking quietly when he finally replied.

"What did you think?  That I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you?  Give me a little credit.  And yourself a little less, maybe."  He punctuated the notion with a gentle kick to the back of Link's thigh.

"Hey.  No, that's not what I thought.  I didn't think anything."

"Nothing is different," Rhett said, shrugging a shoulder.  "We're still friends.  We still have a few secrets.  Now we have one more."

Link ran a hand through his hair.  "But you still think we should..."

"When the time is right, yes."  When his response made Link break eye contact, Rhett nudged him with his foot.  "But hey, I'm not going to make a move without you.  We'll figure it out together."

Link nodded and reached for his laptop from under the yellow pizza box.  He opened it only halfway before pausing, a thought crossing his mind and demanding to be voiced.

"Do you really have to get an oil change tonight?"

Rhett pushed himself off the couch and started clearing the table.  With full hands, he shook his head and walked toward the door.

"If you think I can be alone with you outside the safety of the office right now...maybe you're giving me _too much_ credit."

With that, he disappeared down the hallway, leaving Link to calm the butterflies in his stomach.

 

 

So went the week, the pair working as well as ever with a definite and necessary distance between them.  It had started simply enough with an agreement to drive their own cars each day.  They still ate together, prepped for filming together, spent an hour every afternoon alone in their office writing and editing the script for an upcoming project.  They were more careful to leave their door wide open, to offer to share their meals with their team, to deny themselves all opportunity to push their platonic boundaries. There was no time or place to have the necessary conversation, to do the necessary problem solving, so they simply moved from one day to the next, denying the possibility that anything may have followed them home, and simply enjoying what company they could openly offer each other.

Still, Link could not help but feel the pangs of loss when he tried to rest his knee against Rhett's during filming, only to feel Rhett shift away; when he tried to feed him an apple slice during a private writing session, only for Rhett to insist on using his own hands; when his whispered compliments seemed to fall upon deaf ears. 

By Thursday, the Rhett of Tahiti was a distant memory, replaced with a version both colder and willfully oblivious to Link's attempts at eye contact and passing grazes.   The act had become a conscious strain on Link, made more difficult by the ease with which Rhett seemed to maneuver around him.  They left at the same time every evening, following their team out the door, spending less time than ever in the studio, and yet Link felt more drained than any hours of overtime had ever left him. 

It was this day, in the hour that Link had first considered severing ties to confessions made in a house over water, that as he locked the studio door behind him, he felt a hand press against the small of his back and linger in a touch too light for family and too long for a friend.

"See you tomorrow."

By the time he turned toward the soft voice, Rhett had turned and begun walking toward his own car, stealing a backward glance with a subtle smirk.

Halfway home, Link could still feel the heat of his hand like a burn.  It taunted him, whispering to life memories of those hands exploring the rest of his body.

 

 

"You're having a hard week."

Link snapped out of his daze and looked up from the kitchen table at which he was slumped, head resting heavily on his palm.  Christy was smiling sadly at him from the sink.

"What?"

She shook her head.  "You've been in kind of a funk since you went back to work.  You're coming home early..."

"We've always shut down by five."

"And you've rarely left before six.  Something's going on between you and Rhett."  It was not a question.

Link swallowed, staring at her.  His unoccupied hand trembled against his thigh as he tried to hide in the silence.  He hadn't planned for this yet.  He wasn't ready.  It didn't matter.

"There is, isn't there?  Baby, why didn't you say something?" she asked, brow furrowed, but not angry.  He inhaled sharply, trying to decipher her expression while wondering why it was so placid.

"I don't know...I don't know," he said quietly, repeating the admission once more before removing his glasses and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.  The feel of her arms encircling his shoulders startled him, as did the soft kiss she placed on his neck.

"It's okay.  It happens.  You spend that much time with someone, it's bound to.  You want to tell me what happened?"

His chest tightened, his body rejecting a kindness he did not deserve.  His head rolled from side to side, eyes still hidden in his hands.

"I don't think I can," he spoke over the lump in his throat.

"Oh, please.  Don't be embarrassed.  There's nothing to be ashamed of.  We all act like idiots sometimes," she said lightly, stroking his hair and rocking him gently.  He sighed beneath her and shook his head again.

"How did you know it was him?" he asked, not sure that he wanted to know the answer

She thought for a moment, then chuckled.  "Honestly, who else would it be?"  He didn't respond, so she kept on.  "Well, it's seemed like you've been avoiding it, pretending it _isn't_ happening by coming home so early.  Not that I dare complain about that, mind you.  But on top of that, he hasn't called once this week.  We haven't had a single interrupted dinner!" she explained, smiling as she moved to sit beside him, her hands reaching for his own, pulling them away from his eyes to rest in her grasp on the table.  "So what are you boys fighting about?"

The room seemed to fade from his periphery.  The world was in her trusting eyes, and they were looking right at him.  He looked back, imagining her face when the truth came out, when this misunderstanding was clarified, and her gaze turned cold and wounded.  He saw her turn away from him and toward her phone, and heard the hysterical conversation with Jessie, his words disassembling two marriages from the comfort of his own kitchen.  For this, Rhett may never forgive him. It was Link who'd wanted to wait.

So wait he did.

"It's stupid.  Scheduling, writing.  He won't let me start the filming schedule until the script is finalized, but...it's stupid," he repeated, selling the story like the professional he was and hating himself for it.

"Stress," she confirmed, squeezing his arm.  "It's a big project you're facing.  I'm not surprised you're bickering.  Let me ask you this: is it going to do any irreparable harm to just give him what he wants?"

Link broke off his eye contact, shaking his head.  "Who knows?"

"Honestly, baby.  Unlikely.  Maybe just let him have this one.  Sounds like he's trying to keep you from getting too far ahead of yourself.  Let him.  He does have a way of looking out for you."

He couldn't help but smirk at the observation.  "So you've noticed that, too."

She smiled, nodding once.  "We all have."  Her palm slapped the table as she tried to lighten the mood, encouraged by even his smallest smile.  "Now, you have a week to sort this out, 'cause I'm not canceling our dinner.  It'd be even better if you could play nice tomorrow when they drop off the boys, but I won't ask for miracles."

He offered a small, sad smile and placed his hand over hers.

"You're too good for me."

"Oh, honey," she sighed, placing a quick kiss on his forehead as she stood to leave the kitchen. "I know."

Normally, he would have laughed at the joke.  He wasn't feeling normal.

 

* * *

 

 

"Let's knock it out.  It's all written and ready to go.  It takes two minutes to hook up the Playstation.  Half an hour of filming that we don't have to do Monday.  We've been killing it this week! I'll be back for your answer in a minute.  Maybe you'll already be in the dressing room."

Stevie left the doorway with a bounce to her step that only came with moving ahead of schedule.  Rhett jumped at the suggestion, as he had every other chance for extra work during the week, opening the episode notes on his laptop, reading and rereading the plan.  Link simply watched, knees pulling up to his chest as he curled into his office chair.

"Aren't you tired?" he asked, watching Rhett's face carefully.  His brow lifted as he glanced up from his screen, only to return to his study as he answered.

"Ready for a weekend, if that's what you're asking."

"It's not, really.  You've been pushing hard all week.  We've gotten more done in the last five days than in, I don't know, the last month."

"Is that...a problem?"

Link shook his head, pulling closer to the desk to bury himself in his own screen.  "No.  Forget it.  It's a good thing.  It's great."

"Okay," Rhett replied, not looking up again.  His carefree demeanor had always charmed Link; now it grated his nerves.  He recognized the feeling as his face grew warm:  he was frustrated, irritated by a problem with no easy solution.  He felt he'd been lured into facing a bittersweet truth and was now abandoned with it.  He resented being left to live alone with such a beast.

  There was no pride in it, but he knew he wanted Rhett's attention, beyond work, beyond the jokes and hollow niceties.  He wanted a loaded moment, a crisis, and any sign that he had not dreamt his week on the island.  He did not know how to go about such things cleanly, and so he opted for making a mess.

"I mean..." he began, feeling the trouble brewing in his chest as the words stormed forth, "have you not been avoiding me?"

Rhett shook his head, eyes diligently trained on his computer.  "Hmm?  Not really, no.  You want me to?"

"Don't lie to me."

Link jumped up and crossed to the door, harshly pushing it closed.  Even this did not draw Rhett's gaze.  He stepped back to the desks, reaching by Rhett and slamming his computer closed, shoving it to the back of the work surface and sitting in its place, feet resting on either side of Rhett's hips on his chair.  He watched his computer for a second longer before leaning back in his seat and looking up at Link.

"Yes?"

"You don't want to figure this out?"

"Figure this out..."

"You don't seem...I don't know, bothered?   How long do we go about giving each other such wide berths?  Did you think working ourselves to death would distract us?  'Cause it's not helping.  And that's coming from _me_."

Rhett nodded, lips pulled tight into his mouth.  "Okay."  His tone was resigned, but Link knew not to what.

"Okay.  Okay what?"

"Okay.  What do you want to do about it?  Want me to bend you over the desk?  Want to bend _me_ over the desk?  We never discussed what you liked best.  I know I had a favorite..."

"Ssh," Link hissed, cutting him off with a kick to his chair, glaring toward the closed door.

"See why I haven't tried to have this conversation here?  There would be entirely too much shushing."

"Then why haven't we...I don't know, gone somewhere?  Why do we keep leaving so early?"

"Suddenly there's a rush?"

Link gaped at him, shocked into silence by the question.  His scare the night before had confirmed that, indeed, there was a rush.  Rhett shook his head, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"This is why people keep things from you."

"Why are you being so callous?  I really thought we were going to be okay, but then... It's like you're just playing with me.  Are you punishing me for something?  Did you mean anything that you said to me?" Link whispered, leaning forward to scrutinize Rhett's face.  He mirrored the movement, looking up at Link and leaving only inches of space between them.

"Did you?"

He swallowed down the urge to shout, directing his excess energy to his hands, latching with a white-knuckle grip to the edge of the desk. 

"Of course I did.  But now you're not giving me _anything_.  I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.  How I'm supposed to pretend..."  He shook his head, dizzy with the conflicting desires to both shove and embrace the man in front of him.  He gritted his teeth instead.  "God, why is this so damn easy for you?"

At this, Rhett pushed backward, moving out of Link's reach and standing. 

"I've had a lot more practice."  As he spoke, he walked toward the office door, Link's heart sinking with every step, until Rhett stopped short of opening it and simply turned the lock instead.  "I've been working on not grinning like an idiot every time I look at you.  I tried to stop myself from imagining your hands on me," he explained turning around slowly and piercing Link with the intense gaze he'd been seeking out, "but I had to settle for hiding it, instead.  I've put so much effort into burying these feelings for the sake of our business, our work environment, our reputations, our families..." He moved back toward Link, pushing the chair aside and standing in its place between Link's knees, hands planting on the table on either side of him.  "But now that you're in on it, the game has changed.  So what would you have us do?"

Rhett leaned in close enough for Link to taste his breath as he asked the impossible question.  Link's lips twitched with the urge to press forward, to drop out of his role as a business partner and into that of a lover.  He could sense the warmth of Rhett's body and imagined how it would feel as it held him against the desk, leaning him back and lying over him.  He could not predict how quickly Stevie would return, though, and flinched when a soft knock sounded at the door.

"You're on in ten, then we're shutting down!" she called through the heavy door, walking away without checking its knob.  Link blessed her for the discretion and cursed her for her speed.

Rhett straightened and placed a hand on his hip. 

"So, I trust you're not going to make any bold confessions on my date night?  That would be..." Rhett shook his head rather than finishing his thought.

"No, of course not.  With your kids in my house?  What do you think I am?"

"Frankly, I think you're emotional.  You're wound up, and I don't blame you.  There's just a bigger picture to keep in mind."

"I know that," Link fired back, sliding off the desk.

"I know.  Of course you do.  Let's film this thing and go home.  A weekend will help, I think."

Link shrugged, unconvinced, and followed him out of the office.

 

Sitting at their signature desk almost always lifted their spirits, and this was no exception.  They explored fake news stories with the ease and comfort of any other day, suppressing their recent conversation and its implications until the ending called for 'the dead move,' and Link had to work to hold back a hysterical laugh at Fate's sick sense of humor. 

He attempted an act, some pretense for warranting the move, but Rhett ignored it completely, immediately pouring himself over Link and coming to rest, praying in vain that his face did not reveal how wildly at home he felt.

 

* * *

Link had been home barely two hours before his house was rendered spotless.  It had fallen victim to an expression of nervous energy, his hands de-cluttering and wiping clean, doing for his home what he could not for his mind.  As he'd worked, he'd come to a conclusion that both scared and exhilarated him.  It felt stupid and immature, a plan poorly formed to test Rhett's word and simultaneously feed a week-old craving, a small but powerful gesture to sustain them through the drought that was their real lives.

 

The sun had only begun to set when two rambunctious boys came clambering through the foyer and into the living room, followed distantly by their parents, who were grinning and shaking their heads at some unheard joke.  Sheer momentum carried the boys through the house and out the back door, three siblings on their heels, each armed with Nerf guns.

"Sorry, they let themselves in," Rhett apologized to Christy, who met him with a hug.  "I think they're part Tasmanian devil.  We're going to have some genetic testing done."

She laughed and embraced Jessie, asking about their plans for the evening while Rhett scanned the empty living room.  He'd stepped toward the kitchen when Link's voice echoed from the end of the hall.

"Sounds like the circus is in town," he called, the words preceding his appearance.  Rhett turned back, watching the hallway.  When Link stepped into the light of the living room, his skin not only contrasted against a snug black t-shirt, but also glowed with the dew of a recent shower, his hair damp and messily raked away from his face.  Rhett saw in his posture that he knew how good he looked.  He was a smart man.  He was also a little reckless.

"I know you're not staying, but I just got the final cut of the prom episode.  With the Pergo spot."

Rhett's eyes narrowed, mind racing to figure out Link's game.  They'd each received the same email hours ago.  He looked to Jessie for his cue.  She rolled her eyes lightheartedly and walked toward the back door.  Before stepping outside, she turned back, pointing at Rhett. 

"You got fifteen minutes, and I'm going to dinner with or without you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Christy smiled, thrilled to see the men on good terms, and followed Jessie out, sliding the door closed behind her.  By the time it latched, Link had already disappeared into the office at the end of the hallway.  Rhett followed, conscious of his gait, maintaining an artificial cool.

Stepping into the office, he closed the door behind him, failing to notice that its lock had already been pressed.  The large monitor on the desk did, in fact, display the title screen for the episode Link had mentioned.  Rhett's eyebrow arched as Link tapped the keyboard and the video began playing.

"I've already seen it."

"Oh, have you?" he asked, half-sitting on the desk, legs extended in front of him, lengthening an already svelte profile.  He stretched for the keyboard and muted the video. "And here I was about to waste fifteen minutes of your time."

 

 

 

Their collision was violent, drawing heady whimpers from them both.  It was all the proof Link needed, and he sank into Rhett's skin the second they connected, arms weaving over and under one another, fingers stretching and pulling, searching for as much contact as possible.  Their lips did the same.  Rhett breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of Link's soap and letting it warm him.  Link flitted in his grasp, moving too much and too fast for the man who seemed keen on savoring as much as possible in their limited time.  His fingers slid around to Link's chest and shot up, gripping the corners of his jaw and holding him tightly by it.  With this control, he could pull Link's lower lip into his mouth and properly drag his own tongue over it, predicting its texture, remembering its taste. 

When their plane touched down on their home continent, they discovered that they had lost no ground.  They'd continued to find meaning in their work and live gratifying, joyful home lives.  But they had been enjoying these splendors with lungs half-full.  Their revelations had opened their chests, taught them how to truly inhale, and it had proven far too painful to go back to the shallow breaths of their past. 

"What you've been doing...it's never going to work," Link whispered gruffly.  Rhett refused to break contact when he replied,

"And why is that?"

"I'm not as strong as you.  I can't look the other way like that.  I can't stay away," he admitted, surprising even himself.  The quiet words hit the back of Rhett's throat and lodged there, preventing his own voice from responding.  Instead, he pulled back, his thumb brushing Link's lip as he dared to look into his eyes, bravely facing the risk of drowning in sapphire pools.

"You can't keep pulling away.  Not now.  We're going to work this out.  I'm _meant_ to have my hands on you.  They fit too well." 

Rhett ducked into the crook of his neck, attacking it with nips and kisses.  It was not enough to stall Link's tongue.

"There's more to us than what we've allowed ourselves the last twenty years.  That's the truth of it.  You made me see it, and I won't pretend I didn't. I'm not losing another twenty without even trying to make it work.  Are you listening to me?"

Rhett nodded obediently as he pushed Link to sit fully on the desk, choking back a groan when he got what he wanted: Link wrapped his legs around his waist and pulled, their bodies grinding together.  This he could not talk through, so Link used his mouth to reciprocate attention to Rhett's neck.  They surged against each other until Rhett's strained breaths gave away his frustration.

"What? What do you need?" Link asked, finely tuned in to his partner.

Rhett pulled him tighter, exhaling a broken phrase: "Not close enough."

Link unwound his arms from Rhett's back and leaned backward onto the desk, glancing quickly at the screen before lying down completely.

"You got two minutes.  Make the most of it."  His legs forced Rhett forward, causing the man to move quickly, but cautiously, navigating the narrow space of the desk top until he could rest his full weight against Link.  They sighed in unison, then smiled at their reactions.  Rhett rested his elbows over Link's shoulders, and in trying to twist his fingers into Link's hair, his forearm landed on the keyboard, bringing the video's sound back to life.

_...we built a three-walled room outside.  Take a look._

"Oh, oops," Rhett said, flinching at the sound and searching frantically for the button he'd hit.  Link stilled his searching hand and rolled his hips upward.

"Just let it play."

"I'm sorry," Rhett whispered into his neck, "about this week.  You're right; I went a little cold.  I just wanted to give you the chance to...I don't know."

"The chance to back out?  Call another mulligan?"

He nodded, pulling Link achingly tight.

"Not happening this time.  You told me you wanted me with you.  That last night, that's what you said.  'Stay with me, in this moment.'"  Link rested his head back on the desk to look up into Rhett's face, demanding eye contact.  "I'm right here.  Whatever comes of this, I'm ready.  I'm right here with you."

Rhett sighed heavily, the words seemingly unbinding the nerves that had kept him so distant.  He lowered into a bruising kiss, pulling away only when he felt Link's lips spreading into a smile.

"What?"

"Sorry, I just...listening to this.  When I saw it this afternoon...mmm," Link growled.  The bit had been an obvious joke, but hardly seemed as such now.  Rhett smiled, flattered, and ground against him hard enough to elicit a sharp yelp before pushing himself up and dragging Link with him.  They straightened each other's clothes, erasing any evidence of their activity.

"That didn't go as planned," Link confessed once he'd caught his breath, the video drawing to a close behind him.  Rhett tilted his head, the question on his face. "I thought I'd just sneak a quick one of these," he continued, stretching up to plant a final light kiss on Rhett's lips.  "Make you seriously question how mean you've been."

"Not mean."

"Not nice."

"Not anymore.  I stand by what I've said.  I've loved you, I still love you, and Monday night, we're going to figure out how to tell...how to explain that."

"Until then. Have a nice evening."

Rhett smiled again, momentarily overwhelmed by the amount of love in his world.  Link recognized the look.  He'd already had it himself.


	12. The Best Laid Plans

"Okay," Stevie called, arriving in the office doorway a second after her voice.  "I'm really leaving.  You're sure we're good?"

"Anyone else still around?" Rhett asked, lowering the volume on the blaring stereo and turning from his desk.

"Well, no.  They heard rumblings of 'four o'clock' and booked it.  This kind of thing is unheard of on a Monday."

"Yeah, I don't blame 'em," he laughed, arms stretching behind his head.  "We're good.  Back at it bright and early.  I'll tell Link you said bye."

She assented with a quick thumbs-up and disappeared back down the hall just as Rhett's music roared back to life.  The exterior door closed heavily behind her, echoing through the quiet building.  At the sound of it, Rhett closed his laptop.

On the other side of the building, Link had finished searching their ever-growing costume closet for pieces that might work on the upcoming project.  It was a simple task, but an exciting one, one that made the work seem more real than ever.  It left him energized, eyes glowing as he looked for someone to share in this enthusiasm on his trek back through the open workspace.  He was met with silence, the absence of his crew cementing the end of the day. 

Abandoned to the exclusive company of Rhett, his excitement took on a new feeling.

He found him stretched on his back on their couch, legs dangling over the edge of an armrest.  Link leaned against the doorway, waiting to be noticed.  Rhett's eyes had fallen closed, but the subtle bounce of his foot gave away his consciousness.  He was far away, adrift in his thoughts.  Link didn't have the patience to wait long.

The music made it easy for him to move undetected, closing the door for no reason and slipping off his shoes to pad across the room.  Rhett startled, tensing into awareness as Link's knees grazed his hips and relaxing the instant his weight sank onto his lap.  He palmed Link's sides, grinning up at him.

"You've been gone all day."

"Looking through the closet.  And it was a couple hours," Link replied, reaching for the remote on the coffee table to turn down the music.

"Felt longer.  Feels like we haven't talked since Friday."

"You were hiding in your computer again."  When Rhett frowned, he added, "Though perhaps less maliciously.  You didn't tell me about your night."

"You want to know?" Rhett asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow.

"Why not?"

Rhett's knees bent, providing a backrest for Link, which he happily leaned into.

"Seems strange."

Link shrugged.  "What doesn't anymore?"

"Okay," Rhett began, returning Link's flirty energy, challenging it with a summary of his date.  "Surf 'n turf place was good.  Slow, but good.  Went to Joe's after that."

"The dive bar?"

"They had a band she wanted to hear.  Country music and cheap beer.  What more could a couple hicks ask for?"

Link laughed, nodding his agreement. 

"That was it.  Listened to the band 'til probably midnight, and then went home.  It was nice," he said, a low laugh accompanying a distant expression before he could suppress it.  Link smiled mischievously.

"Oh, yeah?"

"It was _insane_ ," Rhett whispered excitedly.  He quickly waved the thought away, shaking his head.  "Sorry, I just...sorry.  Never mind."

"Don't be," Link replied, dismissing the apology.  "I don't care.  I'm glad you had a good time.  An insanely good time, apparently," he added, grinning.

Rhett smiled up at him, but his brow furrowed.  "Really?  You don't feel..."

"Jealous?" Link finished the thought for him. 

Rhett shrugged, sheepishly admitting his concern.  Link licked his lips in thought, then rested his hands on Rhett's chest.

"You know the difference between jealousy and envy?"

"Not really, I guess," Rhett answered head tilting, interest piqued.

"Oh, so _I_ get to teach _you_ something.  We use them interchangeably, but there is one, a difference.  You feel envy when you want something that someone else has.  But you feel jealousy when you're afraid you're going to lose something of your own to someone else.  Jealousy implies a perceived threat.  So, to answer your question, no.  I might envy the time she has with you, but I am not jealous of Jessie.  I respect her, and what she has with you."

Rhett nodded, considering the idea. 

"Yeah.  That's...that's a really good way of putting it.  I like that.  You're smarter than you look."

"I'd like to say the same of you..."

Rhett jabbed his ribs playfully, causing Link to double over.  Drawing so close to Rhett's chest inspired him to simply drop, resting his head over the other's heart. 

"So we've established it's not a competition.  We aren't trying to take anyone's place," he confirmed, fingertips mindlessly stroking the fabric of Rhett's shirt.

"Right.  Of course.  This is...supplemental."

Link laughed quietly, thrilling Rhett with the vibrations from his chest.  "Okay. Yes.  Supplemental."

"But that sounds kind of frivolous at the same time," Rhett noted, voice quiet with a new concern.  "I don't want to give the wrong impression."  Despite the gravity of the topic, he felt Link smile against him.

"That we're just playing around, right?  Because we're not.  Because you _looove_ me.  Because you're _in love_ with me," Link teased, punctuating his jibes with playful bites through Rhett's shirt.

"Despite my better judgment.  And you're pretending that's one-sided?  That I don't suddenly make you a little weak in the knees?  That you don't _looove_ me?"

Link laughed, enjoying hearing the words spoken so freely.  "Of course I do.  Equally against better judgment."

"So what do we propose?  What do we say?  Rehearse something."

Link pushed himself upright again, straightening his glasses.

"'Baby,'" he began, catching a grin flicker across Rhett's face at the word.  "'I'm so incredibly lucky to have you.  I don't tell you enough, but I love you so much, and I love the life we've built here.'"

"'Oh my god, you're sick.'"

"'No,'" Link replied, smirking at Rhett's heavy-accented role-playing, and taking the note that he came on strong.  "'I'm fine.  I just need to tell you...'"

"'You have a gambling addiction.  Oh my god, you lost the car.  The house?  _The kids?_ '"

To this, Link did not reply.  Rhett laughed at his own joke, then shook his head.  "Sorry.  Go ahead."

"'You deserve to know,'" Link began again, only to be interrupted a third time.

"'Oh my god, you killed someone.'"

"Oh my god, I'm about to." 

Rhett raised his hands in surrender.  "I'm done, I'm done."  Link shook his head before continuing.

"'This isn't a conversation I ever thought I'd have...and you should know that this is in no way a reflection of you, or my feelings for you.'  That doesn't sound too bad, right?"

A puff of air escaped Rhett's lips.  "Depends on what you plan on following up with, I guess."

"'While we were away, Rhett and I realized...being away from work, and getting to just _be_ with each other...'" He'd begun to struggle, eyes frantically searching the air for the right words.  Rhett's warm palms rested on the tops of his thighs as he began to speak.

"'We realized that love is not finite,'" he offered, nudging Link's rehearsal along.

"'Love is not finite.  I love you more than I love anyone, but...no, not 'but.'  _And_ I've realized that I feel the same way about—this doesn't make any sense."  Rhett rubbed his forearms with a sympathetic smile.

"No, not really.  But you're getting there.  I just fear for you trying to wing it.  Your tongue has betrayed you before."

Link nodded, sighing heavily.

"Okay, Shakespeare.  Make this sound good," he ordered. 

"Well," Rhett began, eyes closing in careful consideration.  "What have I learned recently?"  He opened his eyes and intertwined his fingers with Link's, their palms touching as he threw himself into waxing poetic.  "You've seen those abandoned civilizations, right?  Where all the manmade structures succumb back to the wild?  Those jungles are great metaphors for love." 

Link rolled his eyes, but Rhett tightened the grip on his hands to refocus his attention.  His eyes glimmered with a sneaking suspicion that what had started as a grasp at straws was evolving into something worthwhile with every word that came from his mouth. 

"There is no stronger force than love.  It is a natural thing, and like all things in nature, we can never completely control it.  It holds us together against all odds, surprising us with its strength and beauty.  It is bigger than man –I mean, it controls us— and while it is a patient thing, it doesn't care about our plans.  It doesn't care about the abstract boundaries we try to establish.  When people are off their guard, it can break through, wrap itself around our relationships and then bloom with shocking color, revealing itself as this beautiful thing, despite our best efforts to tame or ignore it.  Eventually, it will always win.  And if we can just embrace it, we'll find there is more color and...and more oxygen in our world if we just let it be what it is." 

They stared at one another for a speechless moment, both in wonder of what Rhett had just managed to put together.  It was not long before Link's aversion to sincerity kicked back in. 

"You better land this thing," he warned.  Rhett smirked and nodded, slipping more obviously into the role of confessing husband.

"'So, darlin', I love you more every day.  I couldn't deny you if I tried.  But I also can't deny what's been revealed to me in the last...recently,'" he corrected, overly cautious to avoid putting words in Link's mouth.

"Which is?" Link prompted, hoping for Rhett's take on the best way to actually say the words.  Rhett shook his head, eyes wide in helplessness.

"I don't know, man.  However you want to phrase it.  'I love Rhett.  I'm in love with Rhett.  I've been a fool not to acknowledge how attracted I've been to him.  Truly, it's been going on for decades.'"

"Okay.  Thank you.  Great brainstorming," Link announced, throwing his hands in the air and shutting down the conversation as Rhett broke into playful laughter.  When finally he regained composure, he squeezed Link's thighs. 

" _That_ part you will get right.  I know it."

"A rambling metaphor about jungles bookended by two declarations of love.  Got it."

Rhett flashed a proud smile, but it fell quickly with his next question. 

"So what do we do if..."

Link shook his head, dismissing the idea.  "You don't achieve success by visualizing failure.   You were an athlete; you know this."

"Fine, fine.  I just think we should know what the fallback is.  If anyone decides they can't live with this...can we live without it?"

"We came this far," Link answered, knowing the answer was not a satisfying one. 

"And you think we can backtrack, if need be," Rhett confirmed, brow arched in suspicion.

"There aren't any other options."  There were; Link rejected them entirely.  Rhett chose to let him.

"Okay, then.  Last matter to settle: when?"

"After dinner Friday," Link said with a sureness that spoke of forethought.  "You know we're going to talk about the trip.  We'll eat, we'll drink, we'll laugh and have a wonderful time.  You go home in a wonderful mood, saying, 'Boy, those Neals are really something.  Life sure is wonderful with them in it.'"

"Should I also try to see how many times I can fit 'wonderful' into the conversation, or..."

"We'll emphasize that nothing is going to change," Link said, completely ignoring Rhett's gibe.  "It's just a new...way of looking at things."

"And a few new things to look at," Rhett quipped, sliding his hands up Link's legs until they reached the hem of his shirt, lifting it to peek underneath.  Link grabbed his wrist, halting the movement without losing the contact.

"Agree?  Friday night?  Call or text by Saturday morning?"

"Agreed.  Now, what time's that clock say?"

Link looked up at the clock hanging over the door.  "Four thirty."

Rhett inhaled deeply.  "We could still leave early..."

Link nodded wordlessly, waiting for the rest of the thought.  It came only as Rhett resumed trying to lift his shirt.

"...or we could _not_."

For Link, the proposition was appealing, made more so by the subtle rocking of Rhett's hips beneath him.  And yet something kept him from jumping up and dragging Rhett to the loft.  It showed in his face, causing Rhett's hands to move more innocently to his forearms.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Link answered, shaking his head as he tried to decipher his hesitance.  "I think I feel...guilty?  I mean, Tahiti happened.  That's not going anywhere.  But as much as I want...God, I don't even _know_ what I want to do to you," he groaned, rolling teasingly against Rhett's lap.  "I think I'd rather wait until after.  Until it's not something to feel bad about anymore.  Not something to hide.  Does that make sense?  I'm sorry," he sighed, bending to lower his face in Rhett's chest.  Large hands slid up and down his back, soothing him in a way only they could.

"Of course it makes sense," Rhett answered, kissing the top of Link's head.  "We don't have to _do_ anything.  We can stay just like this."

"We can switch spots if you want.  I've been sitting on you for a while."

Rhett smiled into his hair, reading the request in what only sounded like an offer.  "Okay." 

They pushed up from the couch, Link quickly taking Rhett's place, lying on his back, careful to leave room for Rhett's knees.  They came to rest between Link's shins while his head dropped just below Link's shoulder.  Their fingers intertwined again, this time just below his chin, close enough for him to press light kisses into the backs of Rhett's fingers.

"See?  Isn't this nice?" he asked, free hand playing with the hair around Rhett's ear.

"I feel like I'm crushing you."

"I'm totally fine.  I like it.  I think you do, too."

 Rhett sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes in a telltale denial that, with his head so securely resting on Link's chest, he'd found his own private heaven.

 

They found themselves so peacefully entwined at the end of the next three days, spending an extra fifteen minutes in their office finding new ways to arrange themselves on the couch while listening to music, devising intricate back stories to their favorite characters, and once, doing nothing more than holding each other.  These sessions were rewards for days hard worked, played as versions of their younger and more naive selves.  But they were also confidence builders, reminders of the other's presence and support in the face of admissions that could tear their lives apart.

Friday truly tested their acting skills, besting them both by mid afternoon.  Link was perpetually distracted and opened his inbox every other minute, continually forgetting what he was writing and to whom, while Rhett read the same scene on his screen three times without retaining a word.  Music was turned on and quickly back off; lunch was delivered and went mostly uneaten.  Coffee was spilled from the edge of Link's desk, thrilling him with an excuse to leap up and move quickly, racing to grab paper towels and drop to the floor, cleaning excessively under Rhett's direct stare. 

"I think you got it.  I dropped some tea a couple months ago.  I think you just got that, too," Rhett said coolly.

"We should steam this floor."

"You should take a deep breath.  And maybe a Xanax."

Link looked up, cocking his head at the comment. 

"I can't help it, man."

Rhett sighed and nodded in understanding.  "I know.  I feel it, too.  Want to take a walk?  I'm supposed to pick up a bottle of wine."

Link jumped at the offer, and within minutes, they had propelled themselves out from the studio into the sunlight, wordlessly agreeing on their destination of a liquor store several blocks away.  Their hands brushed each other more than once as they walked, never eliciting apologies or inspiring half-steps away.  Once in the shop, they stayed within arm's reach of one another, arms pressing together as they read labels aloud, taking longer than necessary to make the best choice.  This set the pattern for the rest of the afternoon, following them back to the studio, where they brought their laptops to the couch in their office, knees resting together as they killed time reading old comments aloud.  The practice led to consistent laughter, but also the occasional wince, prompting them to jump to one another's defense, devising wicked insults to which they would never admit for people they would never meet.  In accepting that they would get no work done, they passed the rest of their day easily, jumping in surprise when the crew started shutting down the building. 

In pursuit of normalcy, they'd begun carpooling again, and Rhett spent his drive back to Link's house with his fingers grazing up and down Link's wrist.  Upon parking in his driveway, they turned to face one another, each smiling at the glimmer of fear in the other's eyes. 

"Okay.  I'll see you in a couple hours," Link said, attempting nonchalance and missing it by a mile. Rhett let the crack in his voice slide and simply nodded.

"See you then."

 

* * *

 

 

The house was quiet: the kids had been picked up by one of Christy's more generous friends, leaving her the freedom to cook in peace.  With an array of tapas cooling on the counter and a tray of blancmanges setting up in the fridge, she'd retreated to the bathroom to undertake her own feminine rituals.  Link leaned in the doorway and watched, entranced by her skill with hot tools and liquid eyeliner, simply taking in the masterpiece that was his wife.

"You're staring, mister," she noted, giving him a sideways glance as she brushed bronzer over her cheeks.

"I can't help it," he replied with a lopsided grin.  "You're fun to look at."

"It's rude," she joked, flicking the bristles of her brush over the tip of his nose. 

"I know.  I'll let you stare at me, though."

"Maybe I already do," she fired back, arching a brow.  "Go check on the bread, will you?  I don't want to burn it...again."

He whined, but turned and left for the kitchen.  She called out after him.

"Hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave!"

His laughter filled the living room and ricocheted down the hallway, ceasing only at the sight of Rhett's car pulling into the driveway.

He pulled open the front door, then raced into the kitchen to rescue two loaves of Italian bread.  He'd just slid the loaves into a basket when Rhett appeared at the kitchen doorway.

"Evening," he said quietly, arching an eyebrow as he raised a familiar bottle of wine.  "Brought you this."

Link grinned before turning to retrieve four glasses.  "How thoughtful, Rhett.  Where's your lady?"

"Here she is!" Jessie answered, announcing herself as she sauntered into the kitchen, arm raised in a royal wave to no one.  She laughed at herself before crossing to Link and pulling him into a surprisingly tight hug, then separating with a heavy kiss on his cheek, leaving a shimmer of lip gloss behind.  He looked wide-eyed at Rhett.

"Someone went to happy hour today after dropping off the boys," he explained, shaking his head in amusement as Jessie raised her hand unapologetically. 

"I'm sorry," she huffed, hip jutting in protest, "I thought we were having a grown-ups night."

"So you had a grown-up afternoon, too."

"So I did.  When does the opportunity present itself?  Who am I to decline an invitation from a friend I hardly see?"

"Who's that?" Link asked, stepping easily into the conversation.  "Brandy?"

Rhett shook his head.  "No.  Sherry, right?"

"Or your friend Bailey?"  Link asked, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Jessie leaned against the island, waiting out the game.

"Was it Morgan?  Oh, I told you I don't trust that guy, now," Rhett chided, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

"The old boyfriend, Jack?  Or his less charming brother, Jim?" Link asked, working the corkscrew into the wine.  Finally, Jessie rolled her eyes and raised her hands in a ceasefire.

"Okay, that's enough.  You guys don't even know her," she said, allowing a moment of silence to pass before offering up her own punch line.  "Her name is Mary."

The room filled first with laughter and then with cheers as Christy slipped in between Rhett and Jessie.  She greeted them both, then turned to Link and tilted her head, pointing to her own cheek.

"What happened here?"

"Queen Mary got a hold of me," he said, nodding toward Jessie as he wiped the smudge away.  Christy just shook her head, reaching for a wine glass.

"I knew it was only a matter of time," she sighed.  Rhett laughed a little too loud.

 

The dinner passed quickly, minutes flowing by on waves of good food and better company.  The four were equally gifted storytellers, able to hold the rapt attention of their audiences with ease as they spoke of their unique experiences of lives without spouses.  Jessie admitted to spending a whole morning at the beach by herself while her sons visited a science-themed day camp.  When asked about the camp, she confessed her ignorance, inhibitions eroded by the mounting variety of drinks she had enjoyed. 

"I honestly have no idea what they were doing.  I knew at the time, I'm pretty sure.  Something with biology.  Body systems and..." Her words drifted away as her shoulder shrugged.  "Smart stuff though.  And there I was on the beach, abandoning them to an education at the hands of strangers—"

"Smart strangers," Link interjected.  She pointed at him in wordless agreement.

"—just reading a ridiculous romance paperback and listening to music, which makes me realize," she continued, not even pausing for a breath as she rose from her chair, "just how quiet it is in here.  Give me your phone," she said, extending an open palm to Rhett.  "Let's put Pandora on."

He assented, pulling his phone from his pocket and placing it in her hand, keeping his grip on it until she looked him in the eye. 

"Hey, I'm not braggin' or anything," he said lowly, cocky smirk stretching his lips to the side. 

"Oh, for heaven's sake.  We know," Christy shouted playfully.  "We _all_ know you're on Pandora."

They laughed as Jessie rolled her eyes and tore the phone out of Rhett's grip, disappearing into the living room to connect it to the sound system.

"So what's he not telling me about Tahiti?" Christy asked Rhett.  His neck stiffened.

"What now?"

"There's always some great thing he won't tell me 'cause it's too embarrassing," she answered.  "Some story I always find out secondhand.  So give me one."

"Oh," Rhett nodded, forcing a laugh as he glanced at Link, who was avoiding eye contact with everyone, staring down into the bottom of his glass.  "Did he tell you about the fire dancers?  Oh wait, no!  Did he tell you about the waterfall?"

Link's head shot up, eyes wide.  Christy caught the reaction and laughed. 

"See? There's always something!  No, Rhett, he didn't tell me." 

A modern instrumental song began playing from the living room and Jessie retook her place at the table, watching Rhett as he spoke.

"So, Tuesday we rented mopeds and drove out to this real dense jungle-y area, 'cause there were supposed to be these famous waterfalls there.  So we drive for probably half an hour and find a parking lot.  Completely empty.  Not a soul in sight.  We walk for a few minutes and find the first one, and it's nice, but nothing spectacular.  It was kind of cleared out around it from all the traffic.  So we go another few minutes to second one, which is a little bigger, a little louder, a little more hidden.  But the third one must not see many people, 'cause it was buried way back there.  And it was huge.  Huge.  I mean, it wasn't Niagra, but it was tall.  The path dropped us probably a couple stories up from the bottom."

Link sat back subtly, relaxing as he realized the story Rhett was telling.

"So there we are, looking at this huge fall, completely alone in this jungle, at least twenty minutes from the parking lot, and another half hour from civilization.  Probably no cell service for miles.  And what does Link want to do?  The _moment_ he lays eyes on the drop."

"Oh, no," Christy said, shaking her head. 

"Oh, yeah.  Will not see reason.  'Link, you have a family,' I said.  'Link, I can't save you if you break your neck,' I said."

Link rolled his eyes.

"But no.  He insisted.  So I found a little route down to the bottom and just...just had to watch him try to kill himself," he recalled, turning to look at Link.  "I'm gonna say your body realized your stupidity the second you left the ground, though, 'cause you hollered just... _so_ loud."

They laughed, each shaking their heads at his foolish pursuit of a thrill.

"That's probably about the stupidest thing he did.  Or at least, the only thing that I adamantly objected to.  That said, I did film it, just in case we needed documentation of his death."

"Are you serious?" Link asked, hearing this information for the first time.

"Oh yeah," Rhett answered, proud to have kept this secret. 

As their laughter dispersed, Jessie pushed herself up and disappeared again.  Rhett shook his head at her. 

"So picky with her music."

Christy swallowed the last of her wine and shook her head.  "I'm sure she's setting up our entertainment.  I'll go help," she announced, following after her. 

Left alone in the dining room, Rhett sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, face clearly content. Link smiled at him, allowing himself to revel in the proximity of his two greatest loves.  There was a placidity, an easiness to the dinner that had undoubtedly been inspired by the evening's drinks, but still felt natural.  He could easily imagine having the same laughs, the same banter and warmth between the four of them without the presence of a looming secret.  He allowed himself to truly consider the possibility of two couples becoming three and basked in the beauty of the image.  It only helped that Rhett smiled back at him, flashing a comforting wink as he rested their knees together beneath the table.

It was then that they heard an odd laugh coming from the living room.  It was a series of exhalations, short and sharp, incredulous and cold.  Christy called quietly over it.

"Link, you guys want to come in here?"  A quiver in her voice sapped Link's face of its smile.  He rose quickly, making his way to the living room as his stomach tightened. 

He'd frozen at the back of the sofa, causing Rhett to bump into him upon finding Christy and Jessie staring at the television.

 

Rhett would later explain that his wife did actually love both him and Link very much.  He would defend her by recalling that her already fiery personality had only been enhanced by hours of light drinking.  She was not quite herself, or rather, was a more reactive version of herself when she had chosen to cross the living room and slap Link where she had earlier kissed him, before shoving Rhett with equal ferocity and asking, "Can someone please tell me what the _fuck_ I'm looking at, here?" while pointing to a picture that, without context, was actually quite beautiful:  Stretched across the widescreen television in high definition, was an expanse of mountainous forest glowing green beneath a clear blue sky, a calm ocean rolling at the farthest reaches of the tropical backdrop, while in the foreground, two men stood entwined, locked in a passionate kiss.


	13. Ampersands

"It's...this was...it's just..." Rhett had tried to start, quickly faltering under the pressure of four eyes staring hotly into him while the ability to communicate clearly abandoned him to his fate. 

"Oh, it's a joke?  A long-fucking-running joke?" Jessie spat, returning to the television to pick up the phone and randomly swipe through its most recent album.  They each stared at the screen, watching as it flashed through images of a shady forest and the cabin of a sailboat before showing the pair kissing again in front of a carved stone.  Link winced at the image, but couldn't look away as it changed to a series of unfamiliar shots, pictures of himself dancing alone in a dark and crowded bar, himself napping on the sand after a morning of surfing, himself shrouded in the white comforter of the bungalow's bed with a small smile on his sleeping face, himself sitting at the edge of the sailboat, legs dangling over the side as he looked out into the endless ocean beyond.  He glanced up at Rhett and found him looking down at his feet, suddenly ashamed of the private moments he had dared to capture.  Link's heart beat so fast and hard that he could feel it through his back, adrenaline trying to kick-start him into action while fear fought to paralyze him.  For a long moment, all he could do was stare at the pictures that Rhett had taken, heart breaking in realization that what might have been a romantic gesture had so quickly become damning evidence, brought forth only hours too soon, only hours before everything could have been explained on his own terms, in his own way.  Jessie had unknowingly wrenched control away from him, and now stood with her arms tightly crossed to keep herself from striking out again.

Christy was simply silent.  This hurt him far worse.

"Well?" Jessie cried, voice cracking as she dropped the phone.  "How long's that little _joke_ been going on?"

"No, I didn't say it was joke.  I never said that," Rhett replied, raising his palms in an attempt to deescalate the situation. 

"Oh, good.  You're right.  We've been so honest with each other up to this point.  Let's not start lying now.  How long have you been doing that?" she asked, nodding violently toward the screen.  "And how much more is there?" she then asked, growing more hysterical the longer she went unanswered.  "I mean, are you fucking each other?!"

"Jessie!" Rhett and Christy shouted together.  

"You just need to calm down," Rhett said, regretting the words as soon as they were spoken.  She bristled and laughed coldly.

"I don't _need_ to do anything.  What a stupid thing to say to me.  How are you going to demand silence and beg forgiveness in the same breath?  What the hell..."

The question shocked Link out of his stupor.

"We were going to tell you.  It wasn't meant to be a secret," he said, looking to Christy and flinching at her wounded expression.  She folded her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to sort through waves of betrayal and embarrassment.

"And it wasn't supposed to be like this, with everyone...I was going to tell you tonight, after..."

"It just happened," Rhett jumped in. "It only happened while we were away.  We haven't been hiding—" he trailed, eyes darting between Jessie and Christy.

"Nothing has to change.  It's not, I don't want...I still love you as much as I ever did," Link stuttered, all of the afternoon's preparation dissolving out from under him. 

"Okay," Christy said, raising her hand.  "Stop.  I can't do this.  I just..not like this.  I want...to leave?  I want to leave, but this is my house," she rambled, verbally working through her thoughts until her eyes settled on Rhett.  "This is my house.  I want _you_ to leave."

Rhett nodded and looked first at Jessie, then quickly at Link before turning toward the door.  It had closed behind him before Link realized Jessie was staring at him. 

"Just waiting on my cue from you.  I don't know where to go.  Will _you_ be going home with my husband, or should I?"

"Jessie...I'm staying here," he answered quietly, growing irritated with her acidic tone, no matter how much he felt he deserved it. 

"Thanks for clearing that up for me," she said, shaking her head as she moved toward the door.  "I'm sorry about your party, Christy."

Christy just nodded, waiting until Rhett's car had pulled out of her driveway before she even looked up at Link again.

"I feel like such an idiot," she admitted, the quietness of her voice revealing a damaged spirit.

"No, Christy.  Please, don't feel that way," he quickly replied, stepping forward, but stopping when she stepped back.

"I don't know if I can do this right now."

In the absence of Jessie's wrath, his senses returned, and he leapt into motion, grasping at the edges of his marriage and trying to keep it from shattering.

"Baby, you don't have to do anything.  Please just...just let me talk to you.  Let me tell you what I'd hoped to tell you tonight.  You want to sit down?  Can I get you some water?"  The combination of his sincerity and the expression of pure concern cut through her defenses, causing her to shrug and move toward the couch as he ran to the kitchen for her drink. 

"Fine," she sighed, sinking into the corner of the sofa and pulling a pillow tight to her stomach.

He returned, setting the glass on their coffee table before sitting on the opposite end of the couch, facing her directly.  A deep breath was all he could use to prepare himself, so he took it and dove in.

"I'm going to tell you the truth, Christy.  Everything.  Do you hear me?  I'm not going to lie about anything.  I'm not going to tell you what I think you want to hear.  I'm not good at that, anyway."

She nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek, visibly biting back tears.

"I love you more than I ever have.  Nothing that's happened changes that.  I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.  That would still be the best thing that could happen to me, and it kills me that I've jeopardize it."

She nodded, prompting him to continue.

"What happened..." He fumbled, restarting his thought.  "Before the trip, there was nothing I was hiding from you.  It isn't something that's been ongoing.  Or rather...it isn't something that I was willing to acknowledge.  I was trying to be oblivious to it.  That, I think, was the problem.  Or the reason, or cause.  I don't know.  But without our jobs in the way, without some mutual project, some goal to think about, we were just kind of forced to exist in the same space, and think about how we felt outside of work.  To see what it was like to just be friends again, which quickly made it obvious that we _aren't_ just friends."

She raised one hand to stop him and rubbed the bridge of her nose with the other, eyes squeezing closed in thought. 

"I don't...I just don't understand.  How does this...what _are_ you, then?"

"We're not anything.  We're friends and business partners, and that's it right now.  We're not sneaking around, really.  All that's happened since we've been back..." He stopped, immediately regretting choosing this method of comforting her.  This confession felt like too much too soon.  But he'd already let the words out.  She leaned forward, silently commanding him to continue. 

"We've just laid together on the couch at work.  And I mean, we've...kissed a few times," he said quietly, trying to shake it off as no big deal.

"Oh," she replied, nodding subtly, eyes distant.  "Okay.  Just friends who lie on sofas together and kiss each other."  As he nodded, a realization struck her that caused her focus tightly on his face.  "You said, 'since you've been back.'  Did something else happen in Tahtiti?"

He had sworn not to lie, but couldn't bring himself to say the words, so he said nothing at all.  She shook her head, exhaling a cold laugh.

"No, you don't get that option, Link.  You don't get to just sit there.  Answer me."

He nodded, biting hard on his bottom lip before speaking.  "Yeah.  Yes, something else happened.  Probably whatever you're thinking.  It happened."

"Wow," she uttered, breaking her eye contact to look down at her hands.  "Wow."

"But it isn't a reflection on my feelings for you.  I need to know that you know that."

"I don't know how that's possible."

It was then that a clear and powerful memory arose in him.  He almost smiled in his excitement at sharing it.

"Do you remember when Lincoln was a baby, maybe a few months old, we were all four on the bed while they napped, and you told me you had been so afraid of splitting your love between them.  But once he was born, once we met him, you knew that you didn't have to divide yourself.  You just suddenly had more love to give.  It sprang forth and was there, enough for all of us without anyone feeling left behind.  You do that every day.  You care for all of us with all your heart, all your energy.  Everything."

She made the connection for him, nodding and swallowing hard. 

"He's not your child.  It's not the same kind of love."

"I don't think that matters.  I think love is love, and it's only in application that it looks any different.  I think Rhett and I have loved each other for decades, and we weren't ready to accept it in its true form.  But without writing and work and our everyday routines to distract us, we didn't have a choice."

"So you don't just love him.  You're _in love_ with him."

"And he's in love with me.  And I'm still in love with you," he began again, falling silent when she raised her hand to stop him.

"Okay.  I get that part.  I get it."

"You say that..."

"It's only going to make me angry to keep hearing it."

"Okay."

They said nothing for a long moment, during which she disregarded her makeup and rubbed her eyes hard with the heels of her hands, smearing mascara in a chaotic pattern that accurately reflected her state of mind.

"I'm just so embarrassed.  I feel so, so stupid."

"There's nothing to feel stupid for.  You haven't done anything wrong," he said, carefully sliding closer to her.

"Two weeks.  Regardless of what was apparently brewing under the surface for...who knows how long, you've been holding onto this for _two weeks_.  You've been coming home each night and just deciding, 'No, not tonight.  It can wait,'" she fumed, voice cracking as it grew in volume, new understandings hitting her in waves.  "You were so upset...Oh my God," she sighed, shaking her head.  "You were so upset last week.  And I thought you two were fighting.  And you _let me_ think that."

"I know.  I'm not proud of that.  I just didn't know what to do.  I didn't know how to explain it yet.  I was still figuring it out myself."

A new quietness settled over them, each trying to tread the deep waters of their own minds.  Eventually, she stood, picking up her water glass and taking a drink just to give herself something to do.  Her eyes flitted around the room, settling on the television, where the shot of Link sitting at the edge of the sailboat's deck had frozen.  In it, his head was resting on his arms, propped on a low silver railing as he grinned into the sunset, unaware he'd been watched.  It was an intimate moment, and she sensed it, sighing and shaking her head at another photo so beautiful that it stung.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, gaze fixed on the television.

"You don't have to do anything," he said, starting to stand.  She put her hand out, stopping him. 

"Please stay there.  I need...I'm going to go to bed.  Please don't follow me."

The request itself did not hurt as much as the sound of the voice that had made it.  It was dangerously quiet and thin, worn and weak from a vicious blow to her very foundation.  He'd have rather she yell and rage, as another wife was no doubt doing in the same city, than close herself off from him.  A violent anger was proof of life, and he longed for such reassurance.

Christy disappeared down the hall, leaving Link to clean up the debris of the dinner.  He threw as much energy as he could into the project, grateful for the distraction.  But it could not last forever.  Soon enough, he found himself facing a blank television, Rhett's phone heavy in his hand.  He sighed at the realization that Rhett would not be calling with any updates, and then cringed at the thought of having to deliver the phone to his house the next morning.  The thought of him returning for it didn't sound much better.

Resigning himself to a night on the couch, he dropped onto it heavily, dragging a blanket off its back and halfheartedly covering himself as he fell to his side.  Steeling himself with a deep breath, he looked further through Rhett's album, swiping slowly through dozens of pictures he'd never seen.

Most were traditional vacation photos: shots of the bright buildings around the beach town, the ocean view from their balcony, the dense forest covering the base of the dormant volcano.  But every so often, a picture would surprise him as he found himself captured cautiously in the background, or brazenly at the center of focus.  Some he had known about, and smiled directly at the camera.  Most, though, found him otherwise engaged, pushing himself up on a surfboard, watching an airbrush artist cover his arm in black ink, then displaying the work as he sat on a curb in the middle of the night, heavy beats still pounding in his head, smiling to himself.  He stuck on this one, recognizing the shock lingering in his expression, wistful as it was.  It was the image of a man having only just learned to see in color. 

Staring at the dark photo, Link wondered idly if in that moment, there had still been opportunity to turn back, to prevent them from facing the reality of their bond.  Backing out of the album and opening another answered his question.

He knew it was an invasion to explore the folder simply labeled "miscellaneous," but in embracing his downward slide, Link didn't care.  He flipped through a series of pictures documenting moving into their new studio.  There were several shots of the party they'd thrown in celebration of their new space, and several of Rhett's face with different friends and crew members in the background.  But buried deep in the album was a series of candid pictures of himself, laughing with Christy, dancing with Stevie, taunting an unseen opponent over a game of beer pong.  He was suddenly miming napping in their office loft, lying on a blanket on the floor, one hand under his head, the other holding a glass of water.  He thought he remembered someone shoving it into his grip late in the night.  In the next shot his eyes were open, looking just above the camera, into Rhett's face, lips curled devilishly.  Another swipe showed him splayed on his back on the office floor, having slipped off the ladder on his way down from the loft.  In the first shot, his face was red from laughter, teeth bared as he fought for breath.  In the next, he was again staring up at Rhett from the floor, propped up on his elbows, bottom lip pulled between his teeth.  The sight of it brought an uncomfortable heat to his face.  He knew these looks; they were dares. 

There was no denying that they had long been on a collision course.  Their downward spiral had been documented.

 

* * *

 

Sleep had been cruel, enveloping him for only short and restless spurts before shoving him back into a cold wakefulness.  He'd dreamed fitfully, reliving Jessie's discovery twice, rehearing the raised voices and harsh accusations before his eyes snapped open into the darkness of his empty living room.  Another hour passed before he'd drifted under again, his overworked brain seeking refuge in unconsciousness.  It had taken three whispers of his name to draw him out of it.

When finally his eyes cracked open, he found Christy kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, barely illuminated by the streetlamp filtering in through the front window.  He pushed himself up with his right hand, finding that his left ached from gripping Rhett's phone too tightly for too long.  He dropped it on the armrest and flexed his fingers.

"Baby?  What is it?" he asked, reaching for his glasses on the coffee table.  She handed them to him and sighed.

"I can't sleep," she whispered, careful not to disturb the darkness's delicate atmosphere.  A glance at the phone told him that it was just after three o'clock.  Words spoken in these hours had more weight, more potential to heal and to harm, and speaking them was a responsibility that neither took lightly.  She sat back, leaning against the front of the chair nearest the sofa, wrapping her arms around her knees.  He watched her silently, letting his eyes adjust until they could discern a shimmering trail beneath her right eye.  It made him want to launch himself from the sofa and wrap her in his arms, protecting her from whatever might cause such pain.  But he held back, jaw clenching with the realization that he was the one doing the damage.

"I think I need to talk now.  And you need to listen," she said quietly.  He nodded, tensing at the fleeting question of what words she might use to sever her ties to him.

"I know I could be wrong, but I think I know what was behind Jess's reaction.  I think there was more to it than the fact that she'd had to find out on her own.  That alone was bad enough, but I think she was mad at everyone...because you two haven't lived in a world of your own.  You've been sharing one with us, and we've had to brush things off. Tell ourselves—and each other—that we didn't see what we thought we saw.  That we didn't really feel threatened.  That there was nothing to be threatened by."

He immediately recalled his discussion with Rhett over the concept of jealousy, but she raised her hand when he tried to speak.

"I know.  You said it a dozen times.  But you telling me that you love me doesn't make me feel like any less of a failure.  Not yet, not when I've only had a few hours with this."

His brain buzzed with the need to speak, trying to make note of all the points he wanted to make if she ever gave him permission.  She saw the desperation in his eyes and talked over it.

"But at the same time, whether or not we understood the depth of it, or I guess, what would come of it, Jess and I both sensed what we were getting into.  The fact is that when I married you, I married a little bit of him, too.  You came with an ampersand.  I've known that all along.  And you never made me feel inferior.  If I'm being honest with myself, I've never really felt left out, or..."  The unspoken thought caused her to sniff hard in order to suppress fresh tears.  "But now...I can't help it.  I just keep asking what it was that I couldn't give you.  And even that's not fair, because I mean," she shook her head, wiping her eyes and sadly laughing at her own conclusion, "he was here first."

They let a heavy silence settle over the space between them. Christy stared at her hands, and Link stared at her until she inhaled deeply and spoke again, finally looking up at him.

"We've been joking about it for years, about what an odd deal we got, marrying two halves of a single...something.  You and him, you're threaded through each other."

It was with this thought that her face started to brighten.  She unwound her arms from her legs and moved up to the couch, sitting beside him. 

"But I'm in there, too.  And so is she."

He wanted to exhale, but dared not impose his own wishes on her words.

"Honestly, no amount of foresight could make it less...strange.  Or painful, really.  There's probably always going to be a little voice asking why what we had—have—wasn't enough.  But I guess to be fair, he could be asking himself the same thing."

This made her laugh as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.  She shook her head and sniffed again.  "I'm sorry.  This is so strange."

 He bit his lip, tentatively reaching for her hand.  She took his hand in her own and pressed her lips against their intertwined fingers, taking another deep breath as she did so.  As she inhaled, he sighed, allowing himself to relax into the sensation. 

"It's never been a question of 'enough,'" he said quietly, watching her face for any sign that he should stop talking.  She just nodded, acknowledging the words, but not fully believing them.  He mirrored the nod, continuing.

"I know I said it already, but I mean it.  I can't imagine my life without you.  And I know how selfish it is of me to want...to even think about having both of you, but..."

"But love and reason don't get along.  Okay.  I believe that you feel guilty enough about it.  And..." she started, considering carefully whether she was ready to give voice to her next thought.  A roll of her shoulders and shake of the head brought it forth, though she couldn't maintain eye contact when she said it, and chose instead to look at their entwined hands. 

"And I believe that you wouldn't be the same without him.  I believe that I could ask you to end this, to pack in the show, the studio, everything.  To cut ties completely if I didn't believe you could be around him without..." She didn't need to finish the thought.  "I think you'd do it for me.  But I think you would be miserable.  We would all suffer in his absence.  So I'm not going to ask you to do that.  I can't speak for Jessie." 

A fresh wave of dread washed through him at the thought that Rhett might be facing the ultimatum that he himself had only just dodged.

"I don't believe in this kind of thing.  I don't believe in making exceptions to our promises.  And I'm still mad as hell that you kept this from me.  But I believe in you.  So how does this play out?" she asked, unconsciously rubbing her fingertip over the smooth metal of his ring.

"I guess I don't know.  I don't know how anything changes, logistically."

She gave a tired laugh and nodded.  "Yeah.  I mean, you already spend five days a week together.  What more do you even want? No—" she immediately said, closing her eyes against the thought.  "Don't even tell me.  I don't want to know."

"I just want to be honest.  It doesn't mean you have to care, or even have to listen.  But I don't want to hide what I'm feeling."

"Okay.  How are you feeling right now, then?" she asked, leaning sideways against the sofa's back.  He thought carefully before answering, recognizing the potential for disaster in his response.

"I feel torn in half.  I want so badly to make this okay, for you to be happy and feel secure, no matter what.  But..."

"But you're worried about him, too."

He shrugged and nodded sheepishly.

"Makes sense.  She was pretty upset."  Her eyes lit up as she gasped with the memory. "She hit you, didn't she?  Oh my gosh, she did!"

"She did.  She was so fast!" he dared to joke.  Christy laughed quietly, and with the sound, they each visibly let go of a shared tension. 

"I'm sure he's fine.  He could just put his hand on top of her head and hold her at arm's length," she added, laughing again.  "That's awful.  I shouldn't say that."

Link laughed through a sudden yawn, shaking his head at the image.  It was as he exhaled that the phone on the armrest buzzed, causing them both to jump at the sudden sound and light of its screen.  He picked it up and frowned.

"Jessie's phone.  Odd time to realize he left this here."

Christy nodded her directive to answer it.  He held his breath, suddenly nervous not only about who might be on the other end, but what they might have to say.  Christy's hand darted across the gap between them to touch the screen and connect the call.  Link flinched again, then raised the phone to his ear cautiously, as if it might shock him.

"Hello?" he said, suddenly even more aware of the hour, his voice quiet in respect of it.

"Oh, son of a bitch," was Jessie's greeting.  Link was relieved that it didn't sound directed at him.  "You know, I thought he walked out without his phone.  Well, fine then.  Fine then," she muttered, as if forgetting there was anyone listening.  Link's brow furrowed.

"Jessie, what's going on?  Why are you trying to call Rhett?  Is he not there?"

"No, Link.  He's not here."  She paused, sighing against the silence.  "He hasn't been here for a few hours."

"He didn't say where..."

"Well, if he's not with you, then I have a single guess.  He's not the type to just leave."  A long pause preceded her next, much quieter words.  "I hurt him.  We hurt each other."

Link dared not consider whether her words were strictly figurative, and let her continue.

"I just...Okay, I'm not drunk.  But since I have you, you know, I don't feel like I should drive.  Or maybe I just...I don't know.  Maybe I just don't want to chase after him by myself.  I mean, I may have said some bad things tonight, but really...you're a part of this mess, too."

"Do you want me to come get you?" he asked, gaze trained on Christy as her eyes widened at his side of the conversation.

"Okay," she answered, as if she hadn't initiated the idea. 

"I can be there in ten minutes," he said, lowering the phone when he heard it disconnect from the other end.

"What in the world?" Christy asked.  "He's gone?"

"He left hours ago.  It sounds like things got pretty ugly."

She shook her head sadly, then squared her shoulders to him.  "Alright, then.  How much of a sign do we need?"

He narrowed his eyes, trying to discern her meaning.  She gave a small smile.

"We have to be there for each other.  All of us, we're a system.  One piece goes missing and here you are, being called in like the cavalry.  And I _felt_ it.  The second I knew what she was saying to you, I thought, 'Go get him.'  So go.  Get him home."

Looking into her warm eyes, he could only shake his head at his fortune before throwing himself at her, planting a heavy kiss on her lips before she shoved him toward the door. 


	14. Angels

She had always been feisty.  It had drawn him to her.  She had an acerbic wit with a tongue to match, and on the occasions that she turned these tools on him, she could always receive as well as she dished out.  His ability to match her quip for quip had attracted her back to him, after all. 

Sometimes they argued for the sake of arguing, each finding little means of contrariness to keep the other on his or her toes, firing blanks to test the reflexes.  But on this night, the ammunition was live, and it tore through him too fast and too hot for him to know how to respond.  He'd been left speechless in the face of her allegations and found himself cornered in his own home.  So he'd taken the only safe route he could find.  He left.  He'd grabbed a bottle of good whiskey and left.  Jessie didn't try to stop him.

The studio was no warmer than his own home.  Rather, it was an archive of his failures as a husband.  Around every corner was a reminder of all the hours and energy he'd given of himself to the business, working late nights and early mornings away from his family.  The deeper wounds came with the pictures of the duo smattered across the space, each a fresh memento of his inability to suppress the most foolish of his desires.  Dark and empty, the studio whispered accusations of its own.

To settle his nerves, or perhaps to simply distract himself, he paced around the building in a ceaseless shuffle, only stopping to lean on rails and walls long enough to sip straight from the bottle gripped tightly in his hand. 

His balance had waned by the time he wandered onto the dark set, gently prodding the desk with his foot.  It did not move, which he immediately appreciated.  It inspired him to turn around and sit on its edge to take another, longer swallow.  Spinning the cap back on, he exhaled and let himself lower backward, moving carefully to avoid the microphone until he lay looking up at the ceiling, legs hanging over the side of the desk, toes tapping the floor. 

"Area man seeks refuge from imploding marriage in studio shared with best friend and secret lover.  Let's talk about that."

If asked, he couldn't have pointed out the punch line, but he laughed anyway, drawing his knees up until his heels rested on the edge of the desk.  It was a tight fit, and he extended his free hand to hold his right knee up, absentmindedly stretching the back of his thigh.  For half a second, with eyes so tired that they burned and a mind not far behind, he saw Link standing at the edge of the desk, resting in between his knees, lips pulled into a wicked smirk.  The image brought a flush to his face. 

"Man circumvents acknowledgment of own emotions with impure thoughts.   Let's not talk about that," he resolved, rolling sideways off the desk and straddling Link's chair, resting his arms on its back and eventually lowering his head onto them.  Upon contact, his cheek ached, though he couldn't remember why.  It caused him to jerk back up, pushing himself restlessly from the seat and wandering back into the building's main space. 

His long legs grew difficult to control, leading him to ricochet from desk to desk as he crossed the workspace, until he reached the hallway and drug his shoulder down the wall leading to the office.  He gently kicked the unlatched door open, and as he swung himself into the doorway, he caught a glimpse of Link lying on the couch in the darkness.  His hand slapped at the switch on the wall, blinding himself when the overhead lights flickered to life. 

"Leave me alone," he told the ghost.  Despite the utterance, he quickly turned the lights back off, a small part of him hoping to hold onto the illusion.  He crossed the room, dropping face-down onto the couch, finding a semblance of the posture Link had put him in the week before, when he'd felt loved and safe and hopeful and much less frightened and helpless than he did now.  But without the warmth of Link's body radiating through him, Rhett could not find a comfortable position.  He rolled onto his side and extended a leg, shoving the light coffee table away from the couch with his foot until he'd given himself enough room to drop into its place.  This he did gracelessly, satisfied with the hard thud of his bones connecting with the floor, contented by the notion that he could literally lower no further.  It was Link who had told him that there was no falling off the ground.

Link had told him a lot of things, but none of them could help him maintain his objective distance from the life he thought he was losing.  No half-whispered conversations had prepared him to let go of one of the people to whom he had sewn his heart.  The thought of losing both seemed like certain death.

And so, without any experience to dull the pain, without any guidance to help him find hope, and without any audience to judge him, Rhett lay on his back and cried.  The sobs were born deep in his stomach and burned him as they escaped through his throat, his entire core seizing with the effort to physically rid himself intangible wounds.  A three-headed monster of guilt, fear, and grief had been pacing through him, subdued by impressive self-control.  But now, the whiskey had loosened its chains, and he had no choice but to let it claw at him from the inside.  He choked and howled, chasing and indulging in the thinnest ribbons of relief he could find until his head ached with the strain.  Then he cried some more.

 

* * *

 

 

From the driveway, it seemed that every light in the McLaughlin home had been turned on.  Link left the car running as he jogged up to the doorway, missing the chance to take a deep breath before the door opened in front of him. 

Jessie's eyes were red, cried and rubbed raw, heavy with exhaustion, but still piercing when she looked up at him.  Her shoulders dropped with resignation and she stepped out, closing the door behind her while leaving the lights on inside. 

They said nothing for the first five minutes, newly uncomfortable in each other's presence.  The sound of the engine was not enough to quiet her mind though, and eventually she crossed her arms with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry I slapped you."

His emotions had been pulled in too many directions for a single night, and now run ragged, he couldn't identify the appropriate response.  It all suddenly seemed entirely too ridiculous to take seriously, and so instead of graciously accepting her apology and sympathizing with her confusion, he broke into laughter.  His cheeks ached with it, mind racing to shut down the inappropriate reaction, but helpless to do so.  Instead, he just shook his head as he drove, wiping a strained tear from the corner of his eye.  She stared at him while the hysterical trill to his laughter revealed more about his state than he knew.  It quickly became contagious, and she felt her own lips spread into a senseless grin only seconds before breaking into a full-blown smile.

"You're kind of a mess, huh?" she finally asked, eyebrows lifted.

When he nodded emphatically, she dissolved into giggles of her own.  Before long, they were feeding off each other, the sounds of their shared madness inspiring new and increasingly amusing fits of hilarity.

"Oh, Link," she finally groaned, head falling back against the seatback.  "This is insane.  How did we get here?  How in the world..."

"I blame Rhett."

She nodded and pointed at him.  "Same!  This is all his fault.  If he'd just left us alone.  Hell, if he'd just left _one_ of us alone, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"Easier said than done, I guess."

"Well, fifteen years is a good run," she sighed.  Link's smile fell, the air suddenly too close for his lungs.  His heart raced as he broke into a cold sweat.

She noticed the change in his expression and shot forward, slapping his knee.  "For you two.  Not us.  I'm not going anywhere!  Oh, God.  Sorry.  I meant, fifteen years of leaving you alone is a good run.  He did his best." 

As Link exhaled, she smiled again and shook her head and muttered. 

"Of course you wouldn't want us to split up.  You're a saint, from a family of saints."

"Come again?"

"Let me guess: nobody in your house resorted to yelling this out tonight.  Everyone stayed calm and quiet and talked about their... _feelings._ "  Her tone was accusatory, but not altogether spiteful.  The insight was alarming all the same.  When he did not respond, she clapped at her accuracy. 

"I knew it!  Saints.  Even in the face of infidelity."

"Christy said that you two..." he started, desperate for something to say.  "You weren't necessarily..."

"Surprised?  Hmm..." She ran a hand through her hair, and when it caught on a series of knots, she idly raked them out as she spoke.  "You know, I'm not of the mind that two people cannot be friends for that long and remain platonic.  Double negative, but you get it.  I think it's a realistic possibility.  Normal people do it all the time."

"Normal people."

"One of which you are not.  Neither of you.  Good husbands and fathers, yes.  But also artists and writers and creators who don't understand what it means to do anything halfway.  You each put so much of yourselves into your work, and your work is necessarily bound to each other.  So, here are two indomitable forces just throwing themselves at one another.  How's that song go?  'Something's gotta give...'"

"Why is everyone else so good at explaining this?" he asked himself.  She laughed.

"Because whether we want to accept it or not, everyone else isn't as shocked as you apparently were.  He told me how you fought it.  I think he still isn't convinced you won't back out."

Link winced.

"I'm sorry.  I wasn't trying to be mean, not that time.  But will you?" she asked tentatively.  He chewed his lip before speaking.

"We have to be in each other's lives.  Whatever that means we need to do."

She nodded.  "Good answer.  If I thought you were going to run, I'd make you turn this car around right now.  I'm not playing on a quitter's team."

His brow furrowed at the analogy, and she laughed again.

"I mean, that's what we are now, isn't it?  He and Christy are Team Link.  And you and I, we're Team Rhett.  Unlucky coincidence the emotional train wreck got paired with the guy who's slow on the uptake."

"I'm starting to wonder if you'll ever stop insulting me."

"Never.  You tried to steal my husband out from under me."

He glanced at her, the protest on his tongue, but he bit it back upon seeing the mischievous twinkle in her tired eyes.  It faded as a new thought overcame her.

"He'll be drunk."

"I had a feeling."

She sighed, her voice taking on a confessional tone.  "He took a bottle of whiskey with him.  I mean, we only had the one.  But he took it.  For good reason, really..."

"You don't have to tell me this," he said, glancing at her again, finding her shaking her head.

"No, you should know.  I called him weak.  I called him selfish and thoughtless.  I may have compared you to a prostitute."

"Whoa."

"I don't remember the context, but I think I said I'd have preferred the prostitute."  She sniffed and wrapped her arms around herself, a physical attempt at holding it together.  "And then I went on another colorful tangent about how he thinks he needs you, but it's only because he's comfortable with you, and that, really, he doesn't need you at all.  And maybe you've held him back.  Which is..."

"A hell of a jab.  Really, you don't have to tell me this," he repeated, quickly questioning his choice to answer her call.

"Which is a complete lie.  It all was.  Lie after lie after lie.  Because I was hurt and confused.  I _am_ hurt and confused, and I wanted him to suffer, too.  I'm a hell of a lady," she quipped, grimly laughing at herself.

"You're human.  You're an intense human sometimes, but I mean, you're so compact, it's got to come out somehow..."

The old joke did its part to draw her out of her spiral of self-reproach.

"I pushed his buttons because I couldn't see how much he had suffered already.  He beats himself up for it.  For not being able to deny...It makes him feel like a failure.  And I didn't get it until he walked out and I had no one to yell at anymore."

Link shook his head, wanting to offer some sage wisdom and coming up short. 

"I don't know what the right thing to do is.  Nobody prepares you for something like this," he said quietly.

"Well, I know the right thing to do _isn't_ to sling a bunch personal attacks at the ones you love, no matter how much they've hurt you. Nor is it to throw vases."

They sat in loaded silence while he processed the words, his brain rejecting them over and over until he finally cocked his head and said,

"One more time?"

"I'm not at my best, Link. I don't think he bled, for what it's worth."

"Are you armed?"

"Well, not anymore."

"Woman..." he whispered, shaking his head at her declaration of guilt.  They sat with the image for long while, until he reached the studio's street, upon which she spoke softly but steadily.

"He followed me all around the house, trying to explain...until I finally turned on him.   I had to think about it, and you should know that I'm not suddenly completely on-board with this.  But I'm not quite as afraid of it as I was a few hours ago.  Either way, it's my turn to go after him."

"And you thought I should be there?"

"Like I said, we're a team now."

 

* * *

 

When they arrived, the silhouettes seemed an odd pair.  They moved cautiously around each other, whispering harshly but then sharing a quiet laugh.  On the edge of a blackout, Rhett watched the doorway from his place on the floor, waiting to be blinded again by the overhead lights of the office.  His eyes had gone bleary and long gave up focusing on the waking world, leaving him in his distorted state of mind to wonder idly if his heart had actually broken in two, mercifully killing him mid-cry, and if the odd beings approaching the doorway were angels.  It seemed that angels should be more graceful than to shuffle their feet and swear upon catching their shoulders on doorjambs, but he supposed he'd never met one to know any better.

"There he is," one of them said. 

"As predicted.  He looks like shit." 

These could not be angels. 

The smaller one laughed, and it sounded painfully familiar.  He closed his eyes to listen to the music of it.

"We're like the evolution of crisis reactions.  At the top, there's Christy, who kept a cool head.  Then there's you, Mr. Hysterical Laughter, me and my anger, and this," she said, sighing, "this unholy hot mess.  Hey!" she called, tone playfully clipped.  "You're making our name look bad."

Rhett gasped when a cool hand landed on his forehead.  His eyes flew open and landed on Jessie.

"How's the pity party treatin' you?"

His face contorted into a vicious glare.  He couldn't help it.  The expression only intensified as a fresh sting shot through his left cheekbone.  But when he heard the pair laugh again, it fell.  Jessie shook her head.

"I know.  You're mad at me. But you're also a wreck.  Look at you," she said, eyes scanning the length of his body to take in the disheveled clothes and rumpled hair that gave away his late night of drinking alone, until her gaze settled on the swollen cheek.  She bit her lip before speaking.  "I still love you, though.  I came all the way here at four o'clock in the morning to prove it."

Link couldn't help but wonder what she'd left out, what other words must have been exchanged for the tide to have turned so sharply against her, or how within a couple of hours, Rhett could go from the guilty party to the slighted one.

"I brought a peace offering," she said in a singsong voice.  He narrowed his eyes toward the doorway, so Link stepped in and kneeled beside him.  For a long moment, Rhett's eyes just shifted back and forth between Link's face and Jessie's, trying to reconcile his reality with the fragmented thoughts clearly bouncing through him.

Link laughed at his silence, making Jessie sigh to Rhett. 

"He just does that.  I can't get him to stop laughing."

"Broke him," Rhett croaked, head rolling away from the hallway's light.  They both reached for him, pulling him back to consciousness, Jessie's hands on his jaw, Link's on his arm.

"I think so.  Your little vacation broke us all.  Let's go home and put ourselves back together, huh?" she said, voice suddenly low and warm, trying to draw him off the floor.  He refused to be moved.  She glanced at Link, prompting him to try his own persuasion.

"Rhett, I think...I think we're going to be okay.  I drove Jessie here and she didn't take a single swing at me.  It's safe to come back to the real world.  Let me drive you home."

Rhett seemed to consider the offer for a long moment.  But instead of pushing himself up, he pulled Jessie down, situating her to lie at his right side on the floor.  She rested her head on his bicep, accepting her fate, and reached across his neck to tap the floor beside his head.  Link sighed and raised his index finger in pause.

"I'll be right back," he said, disappearing down the hallway.  He ran to the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack and a paper towel, and returned just as quickly, slowing his steps upon hearing Jessie talking quietly.

"...it doesn't matter.  You're in there somewhere, even if you don't want to talk back.  I don't blame you for checking out.  But I'm here.  We both are.  You're not getting away so easily.  You are far too loved to jump without someone casting a net to catch you.  You aren't the only one who's watching backs around here."

Link smiled at the language, knowing that it would penetrate Rhett's fog, even if for only a moment.  He rolled his shoulders before reentering the office, shutting off the hallway lights on the way, and sinking the room back into a warm darkness, orange streetlamps creeping in through half-closed blinds. 

He lowered himself onto the floor near Rhett's head and gingerly placed the ice pack over his cheek.  Rhett flinched, squeezing his eyes closed as he adjusted to the cold.  He opened them slowly, searching for Link's face from his upside down perspective.  The repetitive slide of his eyes told Link that the room was spinning slightly, but Rhett pushed through it, furrowing his brow in an attempt to look clearly into Link's face, as if trying to confirm the reality of his presence.

"It's me," he said quietly, running his thumb along Rhett's brow soothingly.  "Still me."

With his free hand, Rhett reached over his head and touched Link's face, letting the ice pack slip off his own.  Link sighed and held his hand for a long moment, silently kissing his fingers before lowering himself to the floor and stretching out on his back in the opposite direction of Rhett, head coming to rest upside down next to his left cheek.  He replaced the compress, balancing it carefully before allowing his fingers to run lazily back and forth through Rhett's hair. 

The air was still as Rhett quietly worked his way through Jessie's words, piecing together an understanding of how and why he was being cradled by two very different bodies.  His logical brain, dampened though it was, resisted the notion that his world had so quickly stopped spinning out of control.  He knew better than to believe in a happy ending to a night that had gone so wrong.  And yet, all signs pointed to a break in the storm.  The hands on his body promised that he would soon hold their owners again; he need only survive the night.  This, he thought proudly before his eyes slipped closed, he could do.

Jessie curled closer to him, breathing him in and holding tight to his side.  Link surrendered to his delirium and stopped fighting the smile stretching across his face, leaving him with the visage of a madman. 

For a long and necessary while, they lay in companionable silence, Rhett and his unlikely angels.


	15. Firsts

 "This is so weird.  What's wrong with us?" Jessie asked, pouring two glasses of iced tea from her perch at the island while Christy hand mixed a light cookie dough, the aromas of a chicken dinner wafting through her kitchen.

"Oh, goodness.  What's wrong with us..." she began thoughtfully.  "Well, we're lucky women who have loving husbands and good fathers for our children.  We're perhaps a little more, hmm...open-minded when it comes to just how loving those husbands are, and with whom," she said carefully, watching the kitchen window for any appearances of the five children currently collected in her back yard.  "But we both know how sad we would be if we asked them to pretend to be anything other than what they are.  So, what's left to be wrong about?" she asked, extending her wooden spoon so that Jessie could dip her finger into the dough.  She did so, shaking her head as she licked her finger clean.

"I know.  But I swear, if you'd have told me five years ago that I'd be sitting here waiting for my husband to come pick up yours, though," she whispered, causing Christy to laugh. 

"Don't try to tell me you'd have been surprised."

"That's the problem!" she shot back, comically throwing her hands into the air.  "It's so _unsurprising_ that I can't believe I got so blindsided by it."

"So help me if he forgets the butter, though.  I'll sic you on him so fast," Christy threatened, causing Jessie to laugh over the quiet, "Hello?" in the foyer.  Quickly after, though, Rhett appeared in the kitchen doorway. 

"Don't you even come in here empty-handed," Christy warned, pointing at him with her spoon.  Jessie raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, smiling when he raised his hands in surrender, a package of butter in his right.  She stood and swiped it out of his palm, rising onto her toes for a quick kiss.  Taking a long look at his slim tan trousers and close-fitting purple dress shirt, she nodded appreciatively.

"You cleaned up, McLaughlin."

"Thank you," he replied, leaning against the doorframe, eyes casually scanning the dining room and living room behind him.  Christy noticed and smirked.

"He's preening.  He does that, you know."

He nodded, then exhaled a little laugh.  "This is somethin', huh?"

"'Weird.'  That's the word I keep coming back to," Jessie agreed, taking a long drink.  "But then, look at who we're talking about.  Weirdo City.  Oh, speak of the devil..." she said coolly as Link appeared behind Rhett, sliding past him and into the kitchen to drop a kiss on Christy's cheek before turning to face his date.  In a pair of gray slacks and a black Oxford, Link looked undeniably sharp.  He'd recently shaved and carefully styled his hair in a perfect coif.  Jessie repeated the exasperated toss of her hands.

"This isn't fair.  He's prettier than me!"

The room erupted into laughter, and Rhett shook his head.  "No he's not, baby."

"He's not," Christy confirmed, flashing a wink at her husband when he turned on her with a wounded expression. 

"Okay.  Ladies, a pleasure as always.  I'm leaving," Link announced, kissing Christy again before disappearing toward the foyer.  Rhett spun on his heels and followed, only allowing his eyes to linger on Link's tight pants once out of the presence of their wives. 

 

 

 

"It won't make it.  It'll never make it!" Rhett cried, groaning dramatically when Link's silver ball crashed into the last remaining pin.  Link spun on his toes, hands raised in triumph as Rhett laughed at the show. 

Tucked in the back corner of the vintage bowling alley, the pair could be as rambunctious as they pleased, and after a pitcher and a half of an unremarkable lager, they were taking advantage of their privacy.

They'd had no intention of pursuing this activity, and were far overdressed for it, each having rolled up their sleeves and unbuttoned their collars.  But an overpriced dinner in a newly opened and undeniably stuffy downtown restaurant had left them reeling against a subdued atmosphere.  Over entrees that Rhett insisted were scientifically miniaturized, they began quietly mocking the patrons around them, devising stories of lurid scandals and stolen riches.  Joking about their fellow diners could not set them apart enough, though.

"Who are we to talk?  We're leaving this place for an art gallery," Link had said, disdain creeping into his voice. 

"I thought it was your idea.  We dressed up.  We showered.  You don't want to go?" 

Link frowned, feeling guilty for backing out of his own suggestion. 

"Not really.  Or at all.  I have too much energy."

Rhett had grinned and nodded.  "I know the feeling.  How about we depart the upper echelon and go make some noise?"

And so they'd wound up in Eagle Rock, bouncing around an old bowling alley in drab shoes that only highlighted their sharp outfits.  Rhett had ordered the first pitcher, and when he wasn't looking, Link had ordered the second.  It loosened them up, easing nerves they had both felt and couldn't understand.  An hour in, they were full of jabs, never too far from a fit of laughter, and undeniably competitive. 

Rhett picked up his own ball and stepped toward the lane, trying to tune out his personal heckler and failing.

"Don't be afraid to really lean into it.  Bend forward a little!  Swing that leg over; get low!" Link called.  Rhett could feel the gaze glued to his back, and his skill suffered for it.  When the ball careened into the gutter, he whipped around to glare at Link, who had suddenly sucked his lips tightly into his mouth.

"That's gonna have to stop," he warned, stepping down to the bench where Link sat, placing his hands on its back, framing Link's shoulders and towering over him.  "You're trying to distract me."

"And you're trying to intimidate me," Link retorted, reaching up to Rhett's collar and flicking open a second button, revealing the black undershirt beneath.  "I'm not feeling particularly susceptible to intimidation."  He raised his plastic cup of beer to his lips, boldly filling the space between himself and Rhett. 

"Noted."

"Finish your turn.  I'd like to get on with my winning."

While he picked up half the pins on his second round, Rhett's game had already been compromised.  Link would only seal this fate by pausing before his next turn to re-tie his shoe.  It wasn't the act itself that had rattled Rhett; it was the fact that he'd waited until he was at the center of attention to reach for his feet without bending his knees.  It was the slow and deliberate stretch of his body, the show of his flexibility, and the light pants that, in such a position, left little to the imagination beyond what, if anything, he might be wearing underneath.  There was a boldness in him that Rhett hadn't seen in weeks.  He'd missed it.

 

 

"You don't have to tell anyone how badly you lost," Link teased, head leaning against the headrest of Rhett's passenger's seat.  In the waxing and waning street lamps of Northeast Los Angeles, he basked in his victory. He could not suppress his smile for long.  "I mean, I certainly will.  But you don't have to."

"I wasn't really trying.  I thought we were just having fun," he explained, voice reaching for confidence.  Link laughed. 

"My favorite cop-out!  'I wasn't even trying.'"  He shook his head and extended his hand to Rhett's knee, squeezing it for emphasis.  "You were."

Rhett reached for the radio, cranking up the volume beyond the level of conversation.  The song that blared from the speakers was a familiar one: they'd heard it enough that they could sing the refrain and snap in unison at all the right moments.  Link typically initiated the impromptu singing, but he knew that tonight, the music was supposed to quiet him down.  He arched an eyebrow at the diversion and turned his attention back to the passing road.  The streets were surprisingly empty.  Even at midnight, drivers rarely found themselves with the breathing room they had now.  He couldn't focus on the phenomenon long, though.  Rhett reached for his hand, resettling it on his knee.

Link's head turned slowly, eyes traveling between his hand and Rhett's face until he realized that Rhett would not be returning his gaze: he'd locked his focus on the act of driving.

For a long moment, he kept his hand in place, noting the warmth radiating from Rhett's skin, the smooth, almost slick fabric of his pants.  The stillness couldn't last, though, and he was soon biting back a grin as his thumb rubbed light circles into Rhett's knee, drumming his fingertips to the music's beat.  He grew incrementally braver, inching up the vast expanse of long leg.  His elbow dropped on the center console, allowing him to lean into the reach.  Rhett stole a glance at him, smirking at the cool posture of his angular body until the daring fingers drug across his inner thigh.  His neck stiffened with the thrill of it, heart thrumming with anticipation that he had brought upon himself. 

Link considered carefully the distance they had to travel, thoroughly enjoying the permission he'd been granted to drive Rhett crazy.  His fingers moved painfully slowly, tracing senseless designs that crawled ever upward.  It was only once the car had pulled into Rhett's driveway that Link's pinky had begun to graze him close enough to inspire a shiver. 

"Did you want to go anywhere else?" Rhett asked, hand at the ignition.  It was true that they had never actually agreed upon a destination when they'd walked out of the bowling alley. 

"Nope."

The street was quiet when they stepped out of the car, silently making their way to the front door, where Rhett fumbled with his keys.  Link stood behind him, running a hand through his hair to expel some nervous energy.  He wanted to laugh at the scene, but he was too excited to bother.

The door finally opened, and Rhett stepped to the side, allowing Link to enter the darkened house first.  He followed closely, stopping only to lock the deadbolt.  The second he turned around, he was pressed back into the door, cool plastic frames pressing against his cheek as warm lips pressed into his own.  A series of grunts escaped him, forced out by the body pressing into his chest.  Link's arms wound around his neck, pulling him further into the foyer's blinding darkness. 

"Hey, I'm right here.  Slow down," he whispered as distinct canines scraped the side of his neck.  Link's response was a deep, gruff growl aimed at Rhett's throat:

"No."

Crediting himself for trying, Rhett smiled and gladly gave up the pretense of patience.  A month had passed since their last night in Tahiti; half was spent in guilty hiding, the other in anticipation of a first sanctioned date in their home country.  Two full weeks had been dedicated to settling in to the arrangement, each couple exploring and adjusting to the concept on their own terms before enacting it.  In the meantime, Rhett and Link had kept their hands to themselves, making a game of loaded glances, licked lips, and accidental grazes in their workspace.  The game had followed them into their dinner, and then the bowling alley, splintering under the pressure of their proximity, until finally shattering the second Rhett closed the door on the outside world. 

There would be a time for slow and steady.  This was not it.

Rhett's hands slipped around Link, palming his lower back.  They did not stay long, soon sinking as Rhett bent his knees to grip the backs of Link's thighs.  In a single fluid motion, he pulled Link off of his feet and spun their bodies, pressing and holding him against the front door in a stance that felt like home.

His legs wrapping instinctively around Rhett's waist, Link couldn't help but grin.  The room lacked flashing, colored lights, booming music, and a wild crowd, but the darkened house was quiet enough for him to hear Rhett's throaty sighs, his senses were sharp enough to appreciate the heat of the muscles holding him up, and they moved against each other with practiced certainty.  He decided he would take Rhett's foyer over a pulsing beach bar any day.

Rhett pulled back, allowing his hooded eyes to travel the body in his hands, head shaking subtly at the sight.  Link chuckled, giddiness threatening his composure.  It won out when Rhett pulled him tight to his chest and carried him to his bedroom.  Feeling small in the embrace, he could only laugh.  The sound of it followed them through the short hallway, bouncing from wall to wall until the bedroom enveloped it, settling it into the fabric of a heavy comforter. 

A warm glow from a yard lamp seeped into the room through sheer white curtains, illuminating it just enough for them to see one another.  Having been dropped unceremoniously onto the tall bed, Link propped himself on his elbows, putting himself on display for the man now openly surveying his body.  .  He couldn't help but stare back; his attention was caught by the clean lines and perfect fit of Rhett's sharp clothes.  The restaurant and proposed gallery visit had been a flimsy cover: they'd really dressed up for each other.

Link recognized a hungry expression, and he could see the words forming on Rhett's lips, so he said them at the same time.

" _Look_ at you."

Rhett laughed and toed off his own shoes before climbing onto the bed and beginning to work on Link's.

"Do I say that too much?" he asked, moving much more slowly on thin socks, trying and failing to tickle Link. 

"How could you?" Link replied playfully.

"Oh-ho!" Rhett laughed again, moving up the bed to lower his hands on either side of Link's arms.  "Stay away from the water, Narcissus."

"I can't help it," Link said, nuzzling the beard hovering just above him.  "The way you _look_ at me.  It makes me feel so..."

"Pretty?" Rhett filled in the blank, only half-joking.

"Adjective of the evening.  I was going to say..." he trailed, stretching a leg around Rhett's hips and forcing him to close the gap between them.  "Powerful."

"I'm sure you were," Rhett whispered, dropping into a heavy kiss that pulled the air from Link's chest.  Without breaking contact, he began unbuttoning Link's shirt, separating the fabric at an impressive speed and running a hand down his bare side.  Link returned the favor, then tugged the open shirt down Rhett's arms.  As Rhett tossed it off the bed, Link grabbed his undershirt, peeling it upward until Rhett raised his arms, letting him finish the job.  Link threw it toward its mate before pulling out of his own sleeves, adding to the growing pile on the floor. 

Rhett sought out another kiss, pressing their bare chests together and sighing into the sensation.  He broke away with a smile, dropping his face into the side of Link's long neck and breathing deeply, pulling him into a tight hug.  He exhaled a groan, surprising himself as he spoke with the last of the breath.

"I love you," he whispered into Link's neck.  Link let the words hang for a moment, playing them on repeat in the quiet dark.  He had not heard them in a while and had hardly expected them in this particular moment.  There had been no swell of emotion, no physical phenomenon to force them out.  They did not rush from Rhett's lips; they drifted, feather light and unsolicited. 

"I love you, too, Rhett," he answered, kissing his forehead. 

The response spurred Rhett back into action, drawing forth a quiet, "Good," before he rose onto his knees, gently removing Link's glasses and placing them on the nightstand.  When he sat back on his heels, he found deft fingers pulling at his belt.  He let them, watching Link bite his own lip as he soon pulled at the button of the fly.  Rhett's breath hitched with every graze of his fingers until his zipper parted and he felt the warmth of Link's palm press against him, gripping him through suddenly obtrusive boxer briefs.  His brow furrowed with the feeling, and his eyes fluttered, falling to rest on Link's face.  The expression he found there sent a shiver through him.  It was subtle, but to the right eyes, the arched brow and hooded eyes sent a clear message: _You don't belong up there._

Rhett sighed and let himself fall to Link's side, rolling onto his back as Link pushed himself up, switching their positions.  Teeth sank quickly into his neck, and with a deep shudder, Rhett closed his eyes in blissful resignation.  Link was most at home with the reins firmly in his grip, so he handed them over.

Warm fingers pulled at Rhett's waistband, peeling both layers of clothing down the miles of his legs, and leaving him exposed to watch Link unfasten his own pants.  He played to his audience, standing at the foot of the bed, the street lamp painting broad strokes of warm light over his body.  The fly separated, revealing the tight black garment beneath.  He let the gray pants hang loose on his hips as he watched Rhett sit up, sliding to the edge of the bed to sit in front of him.  Beckoned with a single finger, Link stepped between Rhett's legs, allowing long arms to wrap around his waist and a series of kisses to be planted across his stomach.  He laughed at the tickle of Rhett's beard against his side, then grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look up into another deep kiss.  There were plenty of places to explore, and yet neither seemed to tire of the other's lips.

The pull of his hair seemed to ignite a clear and powerful memory in Rhett, and Link felt him smile against the kiss.

"What?" he asked as Rhett began pulling at his remaining clothing.

"A moment of inspiration," Rhett answered, biting playfully at Link's side before pulling back, swinging his legs back onto the bed, pointed toward the headboard as he lay back, letting his head rest over the curve of the mattress's edge.

Link cocked his head to the side, mind racing to interpret the vulnerable position.  With a flick of his fingers, Rhett directed Link forward.

"You're not suddenly shy, are you?" he asked, voice gruff as he grabbed Link's hips, drawing him close enough to nuzzle him through the frustrating fabric.  Link sighed a heavy, "Oh," and freed himself of his clothing, nearly laughing with glee when he caught a smile flicker across Rhett's face at the sight of him. 

Rhett pulled him closer, guiding his hands onto the bed at either side of his own shoulders before drawing him to his lips.  Link twitched at the kisses peppered across his most sensitive places, eyes trying to find the best place to focus, torn between Rhett's impressive length and the lips threatening to drive him wild.  He glanced downward just as Rhett pulled him into his mouth, and sucked a harsh breath through his teeth, exhaling a shaky laugh as his legs began to tremble. 

Link was allowed only limited passivity.  Too proud to do all the work, Rhett eventually let his head fall still, pushing and pulling bony hips twice to send his message and set a rhythm before allowing his hands to travel down his own body.  Link's jaw slackened at both the sight and sensation as he thrust gently into Rhett's upside down mouth.  Rhett groaned into it, his hips rolling himself into his own hand.  As he watched Rhett's right hand work, Link soon began testing boundaries, pushing harder, farther, faster until he felt fingers grab at his hip.  Rhett's head turned, breath coming in a series of gasps, and Link stroked his jaw.

"I'm sorry...did I hurt you?" he asked, dropping to his knees to kiss the side of Rhett's face. 

"No," Rhett whispered, curling himself back up onto the bed.  "Not at all.  Just getting a little lightheaded," he said, reaching back for Link's arm and pulling him roughly onto the bed with him.  They tangled together, Link stretching over a mess of limbs to steal a kiss from lips that now tasted a little like himself.  Perhaps there was something to his Narcissus complex.

He had no colorful contortions to perform, but Link was still feeling a little competitive.  He had his own way of showing off, and employed it by pressing Rhett flat against the bed and licking slowly up the underside of him, hovering with hot breath at the tip.  His eyes met Rhett's as he pulled him into his mouth, lowering his head until he could feel Rhett at the back of his throat.  In response, Rhett's head dropped heavily against the bed, wordless expressions of gratitude vibrating out of him. 

Link let his hands wander, stretched his arms toward the chest above him, and drug his fingertips across the peaks and valleys of his ribs, refreshing his mental map of Rhett's body.  His fingers curled, and Rhett tensed at the scratch of fingernails on his sides.  His reverie was broken by his own laugh, and he lifted his head again to look down at Link just in time to watch him sink sharp teeth into the flesh of his inner thigh. 

"No!  Oh, no, no!" Rhett cried, laughing at his own helplessness.  His senses were overloaded: Link's hands and mouth were everywhere.  They scraped his hip bones, squeezed his thighs, nibbled at the crook of his elbow, grazed his length before abandoning it again for less sensitive regions.  Dark hair tickled his skin as Link paved a trail of kisses down one side of his stomach, only to work his way back up the other, exhaling hotly into his neck.  There was a contagious giddiness to each touch, a liveliness inspired by weeks of deprivation and the overwhelming truth that they need not take themselves so seriously.

Rhett allowed his hands to be pinned at either side of his head.  He accepted the teasing that Link was bent on serving.  He groaned when Link rocked against him, then laughed at the obscene noises they made in unison.  He directed Link to the nightstand when jokingly asked for aloe.  He closed his eyes when Link sat back between his knees.  He breathed deeply.  He waited.

As a result, he missed the first act of a hell of a show.

Link could not help but smirk at Rhett's blindness.  Rhett, who knew everything and yet had no idea, lay obediently motionless as Link coated his fingers with silicone gel, then leaned back on his left hand while his right slipped between his own legs.  He held his breath at this initial intrusion, only releasing it once he could do so quietly.  His head fell to the side, resting against his left shoulder as his body formed a nearly perfect line from knees to neck.  He was showing off his flexibility, just waiting to be noticed.  It took another long moment, but cracking under the anticipation, Rhett opened his eyes and could lie still no longer.  His hands shot forward, grabbing Link's waist in appreciation of the pose, silently pleading for what he hadn't known he'd wanted.

Link bit his lip and smiled, straightening out of his bend and smoothly straddling Rhett's hips.  Locking eyes, he raised an eyebrow as he reached beneath himself to take hold of Rhett, slickening him in the process.  He cocked his head and whispered.

"You ready?"

"Oh my god," was all Rhett could manage to reply.

Link lowered slowly, stopping twice to breathe and adjust, hands plastered to Rhett's chest for stability.  He hardly blinked, watching Rhett's face reveal an inner battle between satisfaction and the desire to buck his hips in search of more.  He was rewarded for his patience as Link leaned forward and kissed him with an intensity that bordered violence.  Breaking away with another dark smile, Link pushed himself back up and rolled his hips in a languid circle.  Large hands tightened over his waist, now glued to him in an illusion of control. 

The rhythm built easily, horizontal patterns growing increasingly vertical as Link grew bolder in just how far he was willing to pull away before grinding his sitz bones into Rhett's pelvis.  He tried his balance, burying his left hand into his hair as his right began working himself over.  Eyes closed in pleasure, he became the image of a man taking what he wanted.  It made Rhett feel used, and he loved it.  His lips pulled into a half smile at the superbly filthy sight, and he felt a telltale warmth growing in his stomach.

"Link..."

It was all the sign he needed: Link opened his eyes and matched Rhett's crooked grin as he slowed his hips to a lazy roll, listening carefully to Rhett's praise.

"You look...you're amazing. Oh my god..."

"And?" he prompted, running his hand through his hair again. 

"And I really... _really_ want to take over."

Link shrugged, brow lifted in feigned nonchalance, before sliding off of Rhett and lying on his back.  He had hardly taken a breath before his knees were separated, and Rhett sank into him, pulling their bodies together with a firm grip of his hips. Wrapping his legs around Rhett's waist, Link pulled him down, forcing him to prop himself on his forearms.  Face-to-face, Link need only raise his head to pull Rhett's lip between his teeth and suck, sending sparks down his spine.  Rhett returned the favor by altering his angle, finely tuning his position until Link gasped and groaned and writhed beneath him.  Between strained breaths, they laughed softly at each other, at themselves, at the freedom they'd been granted, at the unreality of their sensations and the impossibility of just how good two people could make each other feel.  This high began to bleed into another, and Link's hands clawed into Rhett's back, scratching faint lines into his skin.  The pain was slight, but struck one nerve too many for Rhett to handle.  His laughter turned to a fierce growl, matched in intensity by the hoarse moans he repeatedly forced out of Link. 

And in celebration of that freedom, in a total embrace of their wildness, they got loud. 

Every senseless utterance inched them toward the edge, and when they found it, they announced themselves with cries and exhalations that reverberated through the house.  Toes curled and hips rocked until they went silent and breathless together, riding mutual waves of bliss into a dark and warm oblivion.

 

Once they had cooled down, Link curled into Rhett's side, guiding a long arm around his back.  He rested his own arm over Rhett's ribs, fingers playing on his chest, penning promises into his skin.  At this point, words had no place between them.  They could never be enough.

Instead, they expressed their love, deep and fearsome and thirty years in the making, by weaving their limbs through one another and simply breathing each other in.

 

Early the next morning, before the sun had even risen, Link awoke to gentle prodding at his shoulder.  As he lilted back toward consciousness, he half-listened to Rhett explain his plans for breakfast.  They required a short trip west, and within ten minutes, Link was working out the last of his yawns from the passenger seat.  Thirty minutes later, he was being pulled from the car toward a deserted beach.

They sat on an oversized blanket, a wicker basket and miniature cooler between them.  Rhett had packed a meal of sliced fruit and day-old muffins, amusing Link with his forethought. 

"What a hopeless romantic," he'd teased, laughing as Rhett simply shrugged and accepted the title.

The sky had been a deep orange when they arrived, and once they'd shoved the basket and cooler aside, it had grown brighter, a warm golden suggestion of another beautiful day.  In the privacy of the empty beach, Link laid his head in Rhett's lap, lips pulling into a Cheshire grin as fingers played in his hair.

"When did you know?" he asked, confident that his meaning was clear.  Rhett sighed in thought, confirming his belief.

"What a question.  Who knows?  I don't think there was defining moment.  There were just a series of experiences...you know, little times when you were uncomfortable or scared or sick, and I didn't want to just..."

"Laugh at me?"

Rhett chuckled at his candor.  "Yeah.  I knew that's what I should be doing, that's what I always did, but it started to hurt to see you in pain or embarrassed."

"You must have been hurtin' a lot."

"Those are kind of your things, aren't they?  But not wanting to see you hurt turned into only ever wanting you to be happy, which turned into, 'Oh no, I think I'm a little in love with this idiot,' which turned into, 'Shit, I think he's a little in love with me.'  The floodgate didn't rush open.  There had been a leak for years, and by the time I noticed, we were knee deep."

"So then why Tahiti, I wonder."

"Talk about forcing the moment to its crisis.  Alone in paradise, what choice did we have?"

"Or maybe there was something in that ocean."

"In which case this would have happened anyway.  It would have followed us home eventually."

"How do you figure?"

"We're on the Pacific, Link.  It's the same water."

"I hate you." 

Rhett laughed and bent to drop a kiss on Link's temple.  Raising again, he sighed and looked out at the soft morning waves.

"I guess I just wanted to see it again today," he confessed, voice light and wistful.

"I don't mind," Link replied as his thumb stroked the fabric of Rhett's shorts beneath his cheek.  "What a way to start the day."

They each smiled to themselves, knowing they were starting more than just a day.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot thank you enough for investing your time in this piece. You are a warm and hilarious group of people, and it has been an absolute joy sharing these words with you.


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